


it runs in the family

by scrubclub



Series: manor/estate [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Just a whole lot of Baratheons, Light Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Not a lot of romantic angst, Referenced Sexual Harassment, i've NO idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2020-10-25 21:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20730791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrubclub/pseuds/scrubclub
Summary: Gendry has never had a family, not really.Except now his father is dead and suddenly Gendry is informed that he's actually got quite a lot of family. Like, brothers and sisters and all that. And apparently it's his job to track them down.





	1. Robert, in the end

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, this story is set three summers after the first story, making Gendry 28 and Arya almost 25 (his birthday is in the spring and her birthday is late fall or early winter - don’t ask me the dates, I trust you lot to assign them the astrological signs that you see fit). I do recommend reading the first story before reading this one - it’s far shorter, and that way you can get a taste of the universe and decide if this multichapter sequel is up your alley. 
> 
> Arya finished her undergraduate degree and is working to become a lawyer (fighting that good fight!) and Gendry has been working at a well-respected (but somewhat stuffy) engineering firm, earning some money and doing his best to convince his bosses to take on projects that might make living more affordable for the poorer parts of King’s Landing. 
> 
> The first three chapters are heavily retrospective over the past few years, so my apologies on the switching timelines and little snippets of memory.
> 
> This story is mostly about family and love. It’s definitely Gendrya-centric, but there will be a whole load of characters and while there _is_ a plot, it’s sort of similar to the first story in that it just sort of meanders along at its own pace, with some plot heavy moments and some stretches where it’s mostly just little vignettes of their lives. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. This story isn’t as dramatic or sexy or ripe with romantic tension as some previous and future works, but I really wanted to write it - so I did! I’m horribly worried you’ll all find it boring or confusing, but unfortunately sometimes we just have to throw our words into the world and let them be criticized as the world sees fit! And I'm only finished three chapters! I've got so much writing to do for this story and I feel crazy for posting anything right now, but here I go - I hope I can update this once a week or so :)
> 
> Every chapter title is the name of a member of Gendry's family. There might be one repeated chapter title, but I promise it's for good reason.

There was no reason for it to have lasted. It had been a fling, a forbidden summer romance hidden behind stable doors under the shade of the oak trees by the river. She should have been the hot distraction he told the boys about, bragging over a pint about how he fucked the owner of the estate’s daughter (both in her king-sized bed and against the garden shed). He should have been the off-limits stable boy she shocked her friends with stories of, gushing about the thrill of breaking her mother’s rules in the heat of the summer. 

Realistically, it should have ended when the entire country found out about them, and his face was plastered on the back page of the newspapers, and then the front page of the newspapers, and even - a few times - in the little corner of the television news report. It should have ended when her family paid him five thousand crowns to leave her and he walked away with the cheque. If life made any sense at all, he would not have been invited to another party with the bloody Prime Minister of Westeros after telling the man to get fucked on more than one occasion. 

It should have felt different when the summer ended. 

They fell in love in a fantasy, an idyllic blur of sunkissed days and nights by the river. She had fallen for the stable boy, not the engineer who felt like suffocating in his suit every day as he did his best to have his ideas heard by men who were far too comfortable in ties and tight collars. He had fallen for the girl still wet from a dip in the river, the girl watching him longingly from the balcony, the girl laying beneath him in the grass, her hair splayed out and a fearless smile on her lips. But he fell for her all over again in the city, biting her lip and furrowing her brow as she worked on her law school applications, dragging him to Hot Pie’s for a slice after a night of drinking, insisting that he teach her how to ride his motorbike. 

It could have fallen apart when the fairytale ended, when the hot summer faded and they were left with life and school and parents and the chilly reality of autumn. Somehow, it didn’t. Somehow, Arya Stark became Gendry’s person. Now they split the rent of their cozy flat and Arya almost always made an obnoxious number of waffles on Sundays. He knew what brand of shampoo she liked and he was better at remembering to water the plants than she was (not that she would _ever_ admit to this). Gendry was in love with her, and it made everything - every fancy party, every awkward handshake with his (probable) (absent) (absolute prick of a) father, every photograph taken of him by some paparazzi creep - worthwhile. 

They had spent three summers together and today, in this sterile waiting room, seated in an uncomfortable plastic chair, Gendry drummed his fingers against his knee and Arya dozed on his shoulder. He was oddly nervous about these test results, though he didn’t want to worry Arya with that just now. 

-

‘Family’ was a funny concept to him. 

He had never had a family for long. His mum had been his family, but it had been twenty years now since she had died, and some days he had trouble remembering her face. The Seaworths had been everything he had wanted in a family, and he had fucked that up by getting himself arrested, and he had never heard from them again. Perhaps in another life, they could have been his family. 

But Arya was his family, he was sure of that. Arya, nuzzled into his shoulder after staying up too late to work on an assignment. Arya, who had insisted that she come along when he got the results despite her tired eyes. Arya, who would always feel more like family to him than anyone this stupid paternity test could tell him about. 

-

He had done it for Arya, in the end. Of course he had - he wouldn’t have bothered for anyone less. 

He knew Robert was his father. He had seen the old photographs - they were identical, save for Robert’s easy grin and Gendry’s natural scowl. Robert knew it too. Gendry figured that the man wouldn’t have bothered with him if he wasn’t absolutely sure that they were related. 

When Robert had fallen ill, Gendry had begrudgingly agreed to more invitations to meet with him. He felt sorry for his dad, in the end. Sort of. He might have felt sorrier if Robert had remembered his mother. 

“Ah, yes... Freya,” Robert had mused wistfully, “We saw each other very briefly, but she had a lovely smile. A wonderful woman, I wish she had told me about the pregnancy. But she raised you well in her short time, Gods rest her soul.” Gendry had raised his eyebrows. His mother hadn’t smiled all that much. She had kept her emotions close to her chest and though her heart had been full of light and love, you would never guess it from her face. Gendry had got that from her.

“What colour hair did my mum have?” Gendry had asked, and Robert’s smile had faded. He looked at Gendry’s mop of black hair, exactly what his had looked like a decade or so ago. The Prime Minister didn’t even bother answering, knowing he had been caught. He had the grace to appeared somewhat ashamed of himself, at least. But Gendry knew there was no sense holding a grudge against a dying man. 

It was the dying part that had landed Gendry in the doctor’s office, Arya at his side. Catelyn Stark had played a role, too, he supposed. She had come by their apartment unannounced one day, frowning at the size of the kitchen - she had offered to buy them a bigger place on many occasions - before sitting them down at the counter to tell them the details of Robert Baratheon’s latest decline in health. 

“The doctors say it often runs in the family,” she had said, looking at Gendry, who was looking at Arya. The split second of fear in Arya’s eyes - the flash of a shortened future together - had done it for him. 

That night, when he had thought she had fallen asleep, she had curled into his chest and spoken against his skin. “I want to grow old with you.” He wanted that, too.

And so, Gendry had indeed decided to take every step he could to prevent an early demise like Robert. The first was to confirm that he was, indeed, the “family” the doctors had been referring to when discussing the Prime Minister’s illness. 

“Mr. Waters, you can head into the office now,” the receptionist said, and he nudged Arya awake. 

-

The test results told him everything he had already known. 

-

He would be fine, probably - so long as he didn’t drink excessively and he stopped smoking cigarettes, though he only did that casually anyway (Arya promised that she, too, would give up her occasional drunk smoke in solidarity). He would have to go in for testing twice a year to monitor his heart and his blood pressure. They wanted him to keep eating well, to stay active, and - to Arya’s amusement - to start meditating every morning. She tried to join him in this, but she giggled too much at his serious facial expressions as he counted his breaths and she promptly exiled herself from his quiet place. 

-

Arya insisted that they run more, which Gendry knew was only an excuse for her to beat him more often when they sprinted the last hundred yards at the end of their circuit. He didn’t really mind, though. 

-

Gendry saw Robert Baratheon the day before he died. It happened near the end of his term as Prime Minister, luckily, and Robb Stark was well-equipped to carry the load until the Prime Minister elect - Robert’s own brother, Stannis - took over. 

His father looked awful in the hospital bed, and Gendry swallowed. “Don’t fuck it up, son. Don’t you stray from her,” the once booming voice of Robert Baratheon was now a strained whisper. His heart was so close to giving up. “Don’t you let her go.” 

It was lazy, Gendry thought, for Robert to blame all of his sorrow and errors on a failed romance with Lyanna Stark. He had always been a partier, a womanizer, a heavy consumer of alcohol and Gods know what else. But losing Lyanna had made him sad, and sad men can be a danger to themselves. Gendry nodded. 

“When you marry her, give her a little twirl from me at the wedding, alright? She’s just like her aunt, only I think Arya found someone better.” Gendry didn’t know what to say to that, so he only nodded again and didn’t pull away when Robert reached for his hand. 

-

Robert died on a hot morning in late June. The whole country seemed to stop for a few hours.

-

The funeral proceedings dragged throughout the summer, the entire nation mourning their well-loved PM. The press followed Gendry around for weeks, asking for words of sorrow, words to cause a stir, anything. He said nothing. 

Perhaps he should have been sadder. He felt sorry for Robb, who looked a little lost and overwhelmed. He felt sorry for Stannis and Renly, who had watched their big brother dig himself an early grave for years. 

He was a little sorry for Robert, in a strange and scared and almost selfish sort of way. Arya could sense it, he knew. She squeezed his hand and kissed him on the cheek during the official memorial. 

When they arrived home in their black attire, after hours of shaking hands and solemn nodding, he had spun her to face him and kissed her like he might never get another chance to. She was the only thing that Robert had been right about. 

-

Robert Baratheon had a lot of stuff to sort through. Gendry, Bran, Shireen, Renly and Arya spent the better part of two days in his study, packing up his various books, awards, and files. 

In the top drawer of his desk, underneath an unused leather-bound journal and some envelopes, Arya found a photograph. 

“Whoa, we look good here,” she laughed, though her voice sounded a little bit funny. Gendry stepped to look over her shoulder and his breath caught. It was them, but not them. Robert had a bushier beard than Gendry had ever worn, and Lyanna’s hair was far longer than he had ever seen Arya’s. Her smile was the same, though, and Gendry swallowed at the love evident in Robert’s expression as he looked down at his then-fiancée in her form-fitting blue dress.

He had cheated on her and she had left him for another man when she found out. Whatever love they had felt for the other hadn’t lasted, and their engagement had crumbled into heartbreak and betrayal and misery for both parties. And Gendry and Arya were the spitting-fucking-image of them. 

“Oh, that’s creepy,” Bran said, joining them. “He looks way more comfortable in a suit than you, though.” He elbowed Gendry lightly and Gendry found himself smiling. It made him feel a little bit better. 

-

He hadn’t even thought about the inheritance. He sat in the office with the executor and his uncles, unsure what to expect. Renly appeared excited, Stannis rather wary. They both knew what was coming, it seemed. 

“Stannis and I will assume control over a handful of Robert’s properties, but Robert has left almost everything to his children,” Renly beamed. 

“Children?” Gendry asked, and he swore he saw a rare, wry smile cross Stannis’ face as he carried on, “I thought they proved that Cersei’s kids weren’t his?” Now _that_ had been a scandal. 

“Oh, they’re not!” Renly laughed, before sighing sort of wistfully and continuing, “Gendry, our brother has left you with more than just a few million crowns. He’s got a task for you.” 

“A task?” Gendry repeated, deeply apprehensive. 

“Robert was a lustful man,” Stannis said matter-of-factly, “It’s why you exist, and it appears you’re not alone in that.” Gendry blinked at him before looking at Renly, who looked rather keen on where the conversation was headed. 

_You’re not alone in that._

“I… I’ve got siblings?” 

The executor handed him the letter his dead father had left for him.

-

_Gendry,_

_I was a shit father, I know that. I wasn’t a father at all, and you don’t owe me anything. Still, I have something to ask of you. _

_In my defense, I truly had no notion of your existence until you were caught stealing kisses from my best friend’s kid. Not sure I’ll end up in the same place as him, but if there is a life beyond this I’ll make sure to tell Ned she’s in good hands. _

_Timing is a funny thing. The day after my heart gave me its first scare, the paper published those pictures of you and Arya Stark. I knew you were my son as soon as I saw them. You have my hair and my build and my eyes, but that wasn’t what confirmed it for me. The way you looked at that girl sent me back to a time I don’t care to revisit without a bottle of scotch handy. I think it runs in the family, the way we look at those Stark girls. _

_You felt like a sign to me, a message from the gods, should they exist. A signal that I should perhaps address some of my previous indiscretions._

_It’s sort of funny, watching you take those tests that prove that you’re my son all the while knowing that you were only taking them so that you can avoid being like me. You’re taking them because you want to live a long and healthy life and, more than anything, I hope you get to do that. _

_Watching you plan ahead has made me think of the others, though. I suppose that their hearts matter, too. I’ll leave this letter with files that have all the information I have about where they might be. Edric will be the easiest to track down I’d say, and he’ll likely take his share without much fuss. _

_I want you to find them, Gendry, and I want you to be their big brother. They should know about the health precautions you’re taking. Give them everything they need to know so that they might also live past sixty. Give them the cut of my inheritance that they are owed. Give them my apologies, and, if you can, make them feel as if they have a family. _

_I’m sorry for not telling you about them sooner. I was a coward, and I didn’t want to die with my son hating my guts more than you surely already did. Good luck. _

_Your father, _

_Robert Baratheon. _

-

The Baratheons are one of those old-money families, a little like the Starks. They’re the type with a manor or three to their name, the type who are descended from at least one former monarch of Westeros, the type who have some stupid family sigil and some ugly family tartan and some bullshit family motto. Gendry had always thought that the Baratheon’s “Ours is the Fury” was a little bit pretentious and over the top. But now, he sort of got it. 

“I have _siblings_,” he said, his voice low and angry. Renly’s smile faltered, but Stannis seemed to think that Gendry’s reaction was appropriate. 

The word ‘fury’ felt like home now. It felt right. For the first time in his life, Gendry Waters felt a genuine connection to the noble line of Baratheons that had come before him. 

“He knew about them and he just…,” Gendry couldn’t get the words out. Both of his uncles grimaced. 

“He wasn’t a prudent man, our big brother,” Stannis said. “He was intimate with many women and was not particularly careful.” Gendry nodded, still staring at the letter. 

“So he knew they existed and just left them to rot?” he managed after a moment. Renly winced. 

“It appears so, I’m afraid. Edric is different, Stannis and I always knew about Edric. And you, Gendry, were a surprise to Robert, I’m almost sure. But yes, it does seem that he knew about the rest and was not interested in the scandal that -,” 

“They’re people,” Gendry snapped. “Kids!” He looked at his uncles, who did at least look rather unhappy with the situation. “Who the fuck is Edric?” 

-

Edric Storm was Gendry’s younger brother, a boy born nine months and two days after Stannis’ wedding night (“Couldn’t deny knocking her up seeing as I caught them at it in my bloody wedding bed.”)

His mother was a family friend of the Baratheons, not someone Robert could pay off or ignore or scare away with threats of libel lawsuits. But the last thing Robert wanted to do was piss off Tywin Lannister, his father-in-law and a man who could crush his budding political dreams with a word. So instead, he and Delena Florent agreed to keep the pregnancy quiet. Delena had been offered a job in Lys and so long as Robert paid his child support, she agreed to keep the boy away from Westeros and away from the press. 

Stannis and Renly had never met the boy, but Robert had told his brothers about the deal. Delena had apparently married well in Lys, and Edric had grown up with many Lyseni half-siblings. The file Robert had left about Edric included a phone number and an address. 

“So I’m supposed to just ring him up and say ‘Hi mate, it’s me, your big brother. Turns out your dad was PM and an absolute piece of shit.’?”

“You may say it however you would like,” Stannis said, “But that is, I believe, Robert’s general hope, yes.” 

Gendry sighed. He looked at the window and Robert’s face stared back at him in the reflection. He fucking hated it.


	2. Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bold of me to post another chapter when I still haven't finished writing chapter 4... the updates will likely become less and less frequent as we go. but i've had a long day and i think that sharing some pure fluff is a good way to rebalance the glum energy i've been working with recently. 
> 
> this chapter is mostly just gendry thinking about how much he likes his girlfriend. relatable content - she is a queen.

She was watering the plants on the balcony when he arrived home. Gendry could see her through the sliding doors, holding the glass jug that was supposed to be used for drinking water instead of the plastic one that was meant for watering plants. He smiled as he shut the front door behind him. 

“How was that?” she called, standing on her tiptoes to water the hanging basket. “Are you a billionaire now?” He set the letter and the files he had been given down on the counter and opened the fridge, leaning in to grab a beer. Gendry didn’t drink very much these days, but he felt as though he deserved a beer today. “I’ve been playing the long game with you. I always knew I’d cash-in if I stuck around for long -,” Arya gasped when she stepped through the doorway as Gendry stood up from the fridge. The water jug smashed as it hit the ground and her jaw dropped. “What did you do to your hair?” 

-

He has stopped by a barber on his way home. Gendry was sick of looking like Robert Baratheon, sick of looking in the mirror and knowing that the entire country thought them identical. 

The papers wanted him to be Robert. They questioned his faithfulness to Arya, wondering when he would give in to some hypothetical temptation and when Arya would give up on him and run into some other doomed relationship. In his final semester of school, only months after he and Arya had started dating, Gendry was photographed with a blonde from his class. She had asked him if he was might sell her his textbook from a class he had taken the previous spring. Their brief conversation appeared on the back page of the paper, with claims of betrayal and a note about how Arya should have known better. His poor classmate had to briefly shut down her Instagram account due to the abuse she received in the comments. Gendry had apologized profusely and gave her the textbook for free. 

Arya had found the whole thing sort of funny, but Arya was used to the press trying to ruin her life. It had been new for Gendry, and the idea that anyone, let alone half the country, might think he would even consider hurting Arya like that made him sick. But it was what they expected from Robert’s bastard boy, wasn’t it? Like father, like son. 

But Robert had been a coward until his dying day, not even willing to tell Gendry to his face that he had consciously ignored his other children. Gendry wasn’t Robert, he would never be.

And so Gendry shaved his head. He knew Arya would hate it - she loved his hair. As the barber let the locks fall to the floor, Gendry had winced, remembering how nice Arya’s fingers felt when they pushed his fringe out of his eyes or when her hands tugged at the back of his head as he lay above her.

But when he looked in the mirror and paid the barber, Gendry had smiled. He was still Robert’s son - the eyes, the jaw, the height were all still very much Robert Baratheon’s. But his hair was cropped close to his head now, and the trademark Baratheon black mane was gone. 

-

She walked over to him, careful to avoid the shards of glass on the floor at her feet. Her hands ran over his head when she reached him and she grinned. “It’s like a hedgehog,” Arya giggled, and he found himself smiling too. “I like it. It’s kind of punk, you know?” Arya ran her hands down his neck and along his arms. “It brings out your muscles,” she said and he snorted. 

“I don’t think that’s possible, Arya.” 

“No, trust me, it does,” she smiled. “Now tell me what happened. Did he leave you nothing?” Gendry sighed. 

“He left me everything,” he said, and she blinked in surprise. “And I’m in charge of splitting that everything up among his kids,” he continued. Arya furrowed her brow at his last word before her lips parted and her eyes went wide with shock. 

“No,” she said, “No way.” Gendry nodded and was surprised to see Arya smile. “Gendry, you’ve got siblings?” 

“Yeah - five of them, apparently,” he said, looking at the little stack of files. “And I’m expected to track them down and give them a cheque and be their big brother.” Arya was smiling softly and the anger he felt towards his dead father left his mind, replaced by a warmth only she could inspire. She sort of took his breath away sometimes. 

“I know you’re angry and I completely understand why,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him. “Robert was a prick. But you’re a brother now. You’ve got sisters and brothers!” He nodded, amazed at how optimistic she seemed about all of this. 

“I’m not sure I’ll be any good at -,” she silenced him with a firm kiss, her hand coming up to his cheek. 

“Shut up,” she said, “You’re going to be wonderful.” He felt his lips follow hers as she pulled away and spoke. “Think about it! They don’t have to deal with Robert, they get _Gendry_. Big brother Gendry! They’ve lucked out.” Her words were so earnest, so sure of themselves. He wasn’t sure he could believe them just yet, but as she tucked her head against his chest and hugged him, he knew that at least one of Robert’s children had indeed lucked out. 

-

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he fell in love with Arya Stark. 

It might have been when her brother had offered him a boatload of cash to walk away from her and Gendry realized that there was no amount of money that would make losing her worth it. Or it could have been before that, when her eyes had lit up eagerly when he told her about his dreams of making Flea Bottom livable for poor people. Maybe it was when he had first kissed her, first made love to her on top of that grassy hill overlooking the rugged northern landscape. It might have happened the minute he laid eyes on her, wet and half naked, untouchable and out of reach and the most irresistible creature he would ever encounter. 

It might have happened a thousand times over the past three years. 

-

“I thought the sex would get worse, to be honest,” she had said to him one night, early on, tucked under his arm, “Away from Winterfell, without all the risk of getting caught when summer ended.” He had raised an eyebrow at her and chuckled. 

“And?” 

“Did you hear me complaining?” Arya had laughed. She definitely didn’t seem to have had a problem with what they had done that night. “I still want to do it on the balcony, though.” 

“What _is_ it with you and the outdoors?” He had asked, “If someone photographed that your mother would -,” 

“Oh, calm down, I’m kidding,” she had said, moving her lips up to kiss the hollow of his neck, “Mostly.” 

-

He fell in love when she leapt into his arms with her law school acceptance letter in hand. He fell in love when she plucked some flowers from their hanging basket and made a little bouquet before they left to visit his mother’s grave. He fell in love with the way she could tell when he had a tough day, with the way she would help him out of his suffocating suit as she lured him onto the couch, sat on his lap, and made his day far, far better. He fell in love with every fight they had, the way she hated his insecurities because she truly did see him as someone better than he was. He fell in love every time they made up, every time she convinced him that money didn’t matter, that the newspapers and his father didn’t matter, that she loved him for him, stable boy or engineer or anything else he wanted to be. 

She fell in love with him, too, and he was probably the luckiest guy on the planet. 

-

He liked visiting her at the shelter she volunteered at, bringing her coffee and chatting with the staff about what they were tackling at that moment. He liked coming home to her after days of being ignored by his boss, helping her make dinner, telling her all of his ideas that fell on deaf ears at the office. He liked the way she would fall asleep on his lap when he played with her hair. He liked this life he was building with her.

-

Her friends were like her - lively and vibrant and full of love. Gendry had worried they might hate him, a surly and shy presence among so many smiling faces. He was surprised by how well they got along. 

Mycah had grown up a few blocks from Gendry’s boy’s home, and had worked at the same corner store a few years after Gendry had quit. Mycah and Arya had shared an apartment when she and Gendry had met, and Mycah still pretended to resent him for “stealing” his perfect roommate. 

Lanna’s first words to Gendry were “Oh, Arya you weren’t exaggerating, he’s _hot_.” It had made Gendry blush furiously at the time, though he had quite enjoyed bringing it up to Arya when they had finished with the dishes and he had lifted her up onto the countertop to ask her what else she had told Lanna about him. 

-

His own friends couldn’t believe that he had pulled someone like Arya Stark. 

“The fuck is a girl like you doing with our Gendry?” Tom had cackled when he had met her, pulling her in for a one-armed hug and handing her a pint. Anguy had immediately started going on about how Gendry _never_ introduced them to girls, and that she must be special. 

“Has he had a lot of girlfriends, then?” Arya had asked, an eyebrow raised and her lips quirked into a smile. The boys had laughed. 

“Look at him and you’d think so, wouldn’t ya?” Lem said, “He should have far more notches on his bedpost, face like that. I mean, he’s definitely taken home some other good-looking birds in his time, but - ,” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Gendry had said loudly, but Arya was laughing. He had quickly found that Arya seemed to enjoy hearing embarrassing stories about him from his idiot friends a little too much for his liking. 

-

“So how many other ‘good-looking birds’ did you take home before me?” Arya had asked him, leaning against the counter in his old apartment as he hung his coat up. He rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t keep count,” he had said and Arya had raised her eyebrows. 

“That many?” 

“No! Not - it’s not that…,” he fumbled before sighing. “Three.” She had seemed surprised. 

“You’ve only slept with _three_ other women?” She looked at him warily.

“Is that… alright?” He had asked, a little confused by her confusion. 

Arya had reached out for his hands and pulled him closer to her so that she was pressed rather tightly against the kitchen counter. 

“Just seems awfully low, considering,” she had breathed. He had felt his heart speed up as he swallowed. 

“Considering?” He asked, but she had only rolled her eyes before tugging at his shirt and pulling his lips to hers. 

-

“How about you?” he had asked, only slightly hesitant. They had made it to his bed, their clothes left in a trail between the kitchen and his bedroom floor. She turned her head to look at him questioningly. 

“Are you asking a _lady_ how many people she’s slept with?” Arya had asked, placing a hand on her naked chest and gasping dramatically. Gendry had snorted at that.

“Can you still call yourself a lady after what we just did?” he’d asked, earning himself a light whack on the arm before she shifted her body to face him properly. 

“Two guys,” she had stated, “And one girl.” He hadn’t expected that. She giggled at his look of surprise. “That alright with you?” 

“Of course it is,” he had said, shaking his head in bewilderment at the question and smiling at her expression of mild relief. Arya’s hand had moved slowly up his chest, then, and she had looked up at him with a coy smile. 

“You’re not one of those guys who thinks about two women together and gets all turned on, as if the purpose is to entertain you, are you?” She had asked, and Gendry had shaken his head adamantly, though her hand on his chest and the look in her eyes had made his throat feel sort of dry. “Good,” Arya had sighed, “I didn’t want to go into detail about how hot it was, me and Brea in that tiny little dorm room when I spent a semester in Braavos.” 

Gendry had forced himself to look at the ceiling, doing his best not to get turned on at the thought of Arya and some Braavosi girl sharing a bed. It was boorish to diminish their relationship like that, to reduce it to just some vision of girl-on-girl action. “She taught me Braavosi,” Arya had carried on, drawing her hand downwards now. Gendry had felt very aware of just how naked she was, pressed against his side. “Taught me a few other things with her tongue, too.” At this, Gendry had let out an unintentionally loud breath that made Arya giggle. “You’re adorable,” she had said, causing him to look back to her. 

“How?” He had demanded, annoyed. “I’m literally being one of those guys, getting all hot and bothered at the thought of your relationship with a woman.” 

“Yeah,” she had countered with a grin, reaching up to tilt his face closer to hers, “and it’s adorable. You’re forgiven for being such a _guy_ because I’ve found that I actually quite enjoy turning you on.” She had kissed him slowly and purposefully before pulling away gently with his lip between her teeth. 

“As if that’s difficult for you,” he had grumbled against her mouth. 

-

He didn’t love the swanky parties, but he sort of loved being Arya’s date. He liked arriving on his motorbike, shaking his hair out after taking off his helmet (he supposed he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore) and seeing Arya grin at him like he was Prince Charming arriving on some white horse to rescue her. He liked that quite a lot. 

-

Loving Arya Stark was easy, even when life wasn’t. 

It was easy to ignore the strangers in the street taking their photograph when he looked down at her flashing them her two middle fingers and sticking her tongue out at the camera. 

It was easy to sit at the office job he didn’t love, working for people who never seemed to follow through on the things that he cared about, when he would check his phone after leaving to see texts that told him to come straight to Mycah’s after work because they had ordered Yi Ti Express and and there was a whole box of noodles with his name on it. 

It was easy to get through the galas and dinners and banquets when she was on his arm, laughing at his inability to cope with the endless introductions, telling him how fit he looked in his suits, and lamenting over how much she wished she could sneak him away to some secret corner and have her way with him. (They only _actually_ did that once, and it earned him a very stern glare from her mother, who seemed to know exactly why neither had been spotted for the past half hour.) 

-

She loved fiercely and without hesitation. 

When Sansa got a bad haircut, Arya had dyed her own hair a bubblegum pink colour. The attention had immediately been diverted away from Sansa’s “risky bangs” and towards the younger Stark girl’s “wild” choice. One paper called it “an obnoxious shade” and another declared it “sexy in a way that screams ‘I swing both ways’”. Arya had thrown her head back laughing at that one. 

“They’ve finally got something about you right, though,” Gendry had said, “Credit where credit’s due.” 

Sansa had sent her sister a little potted plant for their balcony as a thank you. 

-

When Sansa’s dress had malfunctioned at a gala and every online publication went crazy over the ‘nipslip’ and the humiliating fabric betrayal, Arya had responded with a mirror selfie in which she wore only a sheer, gauzy shirt from the waist up, captioning it ‘hate when this happens’. The photograph left nothing to the imagination, and Instagram took the photo down within minutes. The damage was done, though, and Sansa’s wardrobe malfunction was long forgotten in favour of Arya Stark’s tits being put on display for anyone to see. 

When asked about the photo, Arya had given a thoughtful, nuanced response about women’s bodies, agency, and the ridiculous nature of the media. 

Gendry had been walking to the grocers when the press had accosted him. He ignored all but two of their questions.

“Did she ask you first?” 

“Why would she ask me? They’re not my tits.” 

“Does it bother you that other men might be using a photo of your girlfriend to get themselves off?” Gendry had raised his eyebrows at this, unable to ignore such a question. 

“I mean… Can’t really blame them, can I? Have you seen her?”

-

That evening, Arya had made it clear that insisting that her body didn’t belong to him was “very sexy” of him to say, but she had expressed that sometimes, to some degree, it did belong to him (actually, she had used the phrase “totally fucking yours”, but this had come as something of a whimper while she was in a rather delicate state, directly on top of him - so he wasn’t going to hold her to that). 

She kept the “NOT MY TITS” backpage and the especially cringeworthy “Gendry: Wank Away, Boys!” clipping stuck on their fridge for months. He had tried to protest, but Arya was very good at winning arguments with Gendry, especially when her tits were directly involved. 

-

(Really, the thought of other guys thinking about Arya while they got themselves off did piss him off a bit, but he hadn’t lied - it _was_ sort of difficult to blame them. Have you seen her?)

-

She had told him recently that he could quit his job, that his stubbornness about seeing things through was admirable, but the company wasn’t actually in line with what he wanted to do and he should follow his dreams of affordable, safe housing in the poorer areas of the city. He had snapped at her, telling her that not everyone could quit their jobs and fall back on generations of family wealth. 

They had fallen asleep facing away from each other. Gendry knew that she only wanted him to find a job that he loved, rather than one he tolerated, and he hated himself for being such a prick. She had woken in his arms and he had promised her that he would keep his eye out for something that suited him better. 

“I know it sounds naïve of me,” Arya had said, “But you’ve got too big of a heart and too many good ideas to be stuck with some firm that’s only interested in making a profit forever.” She had kissed his shoulder and he had nodded, believing her. 

-

She looked good tonight. She always looked good, but she looked good in a different way tonight, clad in stilettos and a tight silver dress. 

“Jeyne has insisted that we all wear these dresses and the world’s most uncomfortable heels,” she said, wincing as she walked over to collect her purse, “Says the photos will look better if we all match.” It was Robb’s fiancée’s bachelorette night, and Arya was more dolled up than Gendry had ever seen her. “I look like a burrito wrapped in tinfoil.” She didn’t - she looked like a socialite from a tv show, like a girl who ruined boys lives for fun - a bit like a girl who would sleep with the manor’s stable boy just to piss off her mother.

“A nice burrito, though,” Gendry said, handing her the lip balm he had borrowed from her earlier. “I’d eat you.” She spared him a somewhat amused glance before pulling on her coat. 

“You’re gonna do it, then?” Arya asked, and Gendry nodded. She hugged him tightly, sensing his nervousness. “Stop being stupid, you’re going to be an amazing brother.” She sounded so sure that he let himself believe it. 

Gendry had been putting off this phone call for a couple of weeks now. He wasn’t sure what frightened him so much about it, but the act of calling Edric Storm up and telling him that they were brothers felt daunting. Arya had suggested he call this evening while she was out, so that they could talk for as long as they needed. “And if it doesn’t go well, you can call me up and I’ll come home all slutty and drunk and make you forget about it,” she joked. Secretly, this actually made Gendry feel far more optimistic about everything. 

-

“Yo, you’ve reached Edric. You know what to do!” _BEEP._

“Uh, hey Edric. This is Gendry calling, Gendry Waters. I’m Arya Stark’s boyfriend - no, that’s not important -,”_ “Message has been erased, please begin your new recording after the beep” BEEP. _

“Hey Edric, it’s Gendry Waters. So, it turns out we’re brothers... And, er - ah, fuck this -,” _ “Message has been erased, please begin your new recording after the beep” BEEP. _

“Yo -” _ “Message has been erased, please begin your new recording after the beep” BEEP. _

“Hi Edric, I’m calling about the Prime Minister. The dead one, not Robb -,” _ “Message has been erased, please begin your new recording after the beep” BEEP. _

“Hi Edric, this is Gendry Waters calling. I’m Robert Baratheon’s son and I’m calling to let you know that you’re also Robert Baratheon’s son. We’re brothers. Er, I’d love to talk properly sometime, if you want to give me a call back when you’re able. Sorry to do this over voicemail. Alright, bye I guess.” _“Message saved.”_

-

He was asleep when his phone rang. Gendry blinked at the clock. 2:47AM. For a wild moment, he wondered what kind of life his brother might live if he was calling him back at 3 o’clock in the morning. Then he picked up the phone and saw Arya’s name. 

“Hello?” He said, his voice scratchy. 

“Noooo, you weren’t supposed to answer,” Arya whined, “I was going to leave you a long sappy drunk voicemail about how sexy you are. And how much I love you.” He smiled and flipped onto his back. 

“You could just tell me that stuff now,” he said, and Arya made a small huffing noise. “Where are you?”

“We’re in the limo, dropping everyone home. Sansa’s just had a bit of a relationship crisis but she’s in bed now and Arianne’s asleep beside me here.”

“Did you have fun?” Gendry asked.

“Yes!” Arya said with enthusiasm, “A guy at the second bar asked me where my boyfriend was and I told him that you were sleeping soundly knowing I throw the deadlier left hook.” 

“Only cause you're the left handed one,” Gendry laughed, “Did he leave you alone?”

“He did, no punches had to be thrown,” she said, sounding a little disappointed, “Did you get ahold of Edric?” Gendry sighed. 

“I left him a voicemail.” He knew she would laugh at that. 

“Gendry, you’re terrible at leaving messages,” Arya said when she stopped laughing, “Oh, you’re precious.” He rolled his eyes. 

“You don’t seem drunk enough to be leaving drunk messages confessing your feelings for me,” he observed. 

“I’m probably not,” she agreed, “but I’m tipsy and I love you and I thought it might be nice to tell you how very glad I am to have you.” He swallowed, taken aback by how heavily her words seemed to hit him. “You know that no matter what happens with Edric or any of the others, you’ve already got a family, right?” 

“I know,” he tried to say, but it came out sort of funny, like the words were choking him. “I know,” he repeated, clearly this time. “I’m very glad to have you, too.” They were silent for a moment before Arya continued. 

“Tonight, Jeyne Poole was going on about how every guy she meets on Tinder is either nice or hot, but never both. And Sansa was plastered and talking about how Dickon doesn’t do anything for her in bed and Robb’s Jeyne was talking about how Robb is practically the perfect man, but he’s so serious and busy all the time. Then, Arianne was complaining about how every boy she has feelings for ends up wanting to control her. And Alayaya was listing all of the boys who had cheated on her. And then they looked at me and I just…,” 

“Went off about how stubborn and grumpy I am,” Gendry joked, but his heart felt full. He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

“You are stubborn and you are grumpy, yeah,” she said, her voice far softer than he had expected, “But you’re also nice _and_ hot, and you’re easily the best sex I’ve ever had, and you’re funny despite the grumpiness and you don’t want to control me and you’d only cheat on me in that scenario we discussed with Visenya from Dragonpit -,”

“It wouldn’t be _cheating_, you’d be there with us. And it doesn’t count because it would require a time machine to go back to the sixties when she was alive and had that haircut we both agreed was her best look.” 

“Okay, impossible threesome aside,” Arya said, “you’re the best and I love you.” 

Gendry heard a car door shut and he slid out of bed to look out at the sidewalk. Her hair was no longer in its fancy updo and she was carrying the stilettos in her hand. He slid the window open and she smiled up at him, tucking her phone into her bag.

“I love you, too,” he called down to her. She threw up a middle finger and stuck her tongue out at him as she walked towards their front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to ao3 use MissIves for inspiring me to correct the fact that Arya is of course left handed!
> 
> also, holy shit i completely forgot to add in the key note that i absolutely stole the idea of gendry shaving his head to look less like robert from ao3 user nymja, who wrote this into 'the fury' which you all surely are reading (if you're not, please god do yourself a favour!!!)


	3. The Starks, one by one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last retrospection-heavy chapter, so again, apologies if the narrative styled and tenses are a bit off putting. from now on it should be mostly normal tense (because that's totally the correct word for it, right). 
> 
> i've finally finished chapter four, so i figure that i'm allowed to post chapter 3 now, right?

Edric didn’t call him back the next day. Nor the day after that. Two weeks after he had left a message on his brother’s (what a strange word to use) answering machine, Gendry had decided that the guy must hate him. 

“I mean, why _did_ Robert bother with me? If he knew these other kids existed, why was I the only one he ever spoke to?” Gendry demanded, scrubbing the frying pan they had used for their eggs with a rather unnecessary amount of force. “What made me special?” He scowled as he handed her the clean pan and moved on to their plates. 

“It’s because of me,” Arya said suddenly, her voice blunt and quiet as if she had only now realized just how much of a prick his dad had been. She paused in the middle of drying the pan. “He couldn’t avoid seeing you if you were going to be my date to every dinner, so he had to be civil to you.” She scowled as she returned to drying the dish. “Plus, you and I probably fit into some weird fantasy he held onto involving himself and my aunt.” 

“Yeah,” Gendry sighed, “Edric probably searched me up, saw dozens of photos of me at all of those parties and thought ‘Fuck this guy, schmoozing about in his suits and -’,” Arya interrupted him with a loud snort. 

“Gendry, you couldn’t ‘schmooze’ if you tried.” She was right, he supposed. “And Edric doesn’t hate you. Give him time, alright? He just found out he’s got a brother he never knew about. That stuff can take time to process.” Gendry pulled the plug and let the water drain, frowning. 

“You’ve got siblings,” he said. An understatement. “Is it normal for siblings to just flat out ignore each other?” 

“It is, actually,” Arya said as she rinsed her hands. “I sent Robb a really lovely text earlier this morning and he’s ignored it completely.” Gendry rolled his eyes. 

“I think he’s allowed to ignore texts on his wedding day, Arya.” 

-

The Starks were Arya’s family and so they were his. At least, that’s what Arya had decided. Reality wasn’t as simple as that. 

-

Rickon had been easy. Rickon was 16 when Arya introduced them and the youngest Stark had taken one look at Gendry’s motorbike and decided that Arya’s boyfriend was _very cool_. Gendry had told Rickon he would teach him how to ride when he was older, a promise that had earned him a stern glare from Catelyn - something that would prove to be a trend. 

Tonight, at Robb and Jeyne’s beautiful and ostentatious wedding reception, 19-year-old Rickon asked Gendry what he thought of his hair (he was growing it out) and if he had any advice on getting laid tonight (Gendry had suggested starting with a haircut, and Rickon had called him a dick, laughing heartily as he scanned the room for a girl without a date).

-

Bran hadn’t seemed particularly interested in Gendry at first. He was bookish, more reserved than the rest of his siblings, and for a little while, Gendry couldn’t think of much to say to him. 

Then, he had seen Bran with a copy of a Dunk and Egg novel and Gendry had asked Bran if he had heard that they were going to turn the books into a television series. Bran groaned, launching into a concerned rant about the writers they had selected for the adaptation and rolling his eyes at the casting rumours. 

“Have you read his other books?” Gendry had asked, “The sci-fi stuff?” Bran had shaken his head. 

“I’ve asked the school library dozens of times, but apparently there’s only really a demand for the Dunk series.” 

Gendry had given Bran the stack of sci-fi books he had acquired through his late teenage years, a beloved pile that had been left tragically undisturbed for too long. 

“And I thought you were just some biker guy,” Bran had laughed, causing Gendry to clutch his chest in mock offense. 

Tonight, Bran informed Gendry that filming of the first season of the Dunk and Egg series had apparently wrapped. “It’ll be crap, but I’ll watch it,” Bran shrugged, and Gendry agreed, knowing that Arya would probably make fun of him for being a nerd before getting far too invested in the show herself. 

-  
It seemed ridiculous that Theon Greyjoy’s opinion of Gendry should matter and yet, it did. He wasn’t a Stark, but he and Robb were such close friends that Theon felt like yet another older brother that Gendry had to impress. 

Luckily, impressing Theon Greyjoy was not a difficult feat.

“You ever cheated on a girl?”

“What? No.”

“Would you?”

“No.” 

Theon had nodded, looking satisfied. And that was that. 

-

At the start, neither Catelyn nor Robb liked Gendry and Gendry wasn’t particularly fond of either Catelyn or Robb. Within minutes of meeting them, Arya’s mother and eldest brother had accused him of “forcing himself” upon Arya. When the two seemed at least somewhat convinced that Arya and Gendry’s relationship was very much mutual, Catelyn had instructed him to end it, to never speak to her daughter again, and to do so at once. Gendry had flat out refused, doing his best to keep his voice level and as polite as he could manage. Catelyn had stared at him, steely eyed and furious and stubborn, and he saw that despite Arya’s classic northern looks, she had a bit of her mother in her. 

Then, Catelyn and Robb had offered him the money. He had felt a little taken aback by how little he cared what they would offer him - there was no amount of money that would convince him to never speak to Arya Stark again. So he took five thousand, gave it to the shelter Arya volunteered at, and waited for her to return to the city and to him. 

He thinks now that it made her fall in love with him a little more, taking the cheque from her brother’s hands with no intention of staying true to his word. He also thinks it made Catelyn hate him. 

-

Robb was easier than he expected, in the end. The brand new Deputy Prime Minister of Westeros was sheepish and awkward and shook Gendry’s hand when they spoke for the first time since the money had been exchanged. 

“Sorry for lying,” Gendry had said, knowing that he didn’t sound (or feel) sorry at all. Robb had laughed a little uncomfortably. 

“And I’m sorry for thinking I could pay you off,” he had said. “My sister really likes you.” 

“I really like her.” 

“I know,” Robb had sighed, “Well, I think I’ve already given you the most extreme version of the ‘protective big brother’ speech. Not my mother and I’s finest moment.” Gendry nodded. “But I still feel as though I have to tell you that if you hurt my baby sister -,” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

And they were fine. And then they were good. And then Gendry had applauded after Robb’s horrible karaoke rendition of some 80’s love song at his stag night. 

Tonight, Gendry clapped Robb on the shoulder and congratulated him, and Robb beamed and asked him why he wasn’t dancing yet. 

-

Catelyn took time. 

She had quietly asked him into her study at Winterfell during his first Christmas with Arya. 

“I’m not going to tell you to break-up with her, because you’ll no doubt pull some new stunt that only draws her further from me and closer to you,” she had started sharply, “but I would just like you to know that no matter how many of those second-hand books you offer Bran and no matter how chummy you get with Robb and Rickon, I know what kind of man you are.” Gendry had frowned at her. He hadn’t been surprised - she had made her mistrust of him evident any time they had been in the same room all through autumn. 

“What kind of man is that?” Gendry had asked, his voice relatively steady, all things considered. 

“The type of man who sleeps with his employer’s daughter - his employer’s daughter who, I might add, is four years his junior.” Actually, it was closer to three and a half years, but Gendry let her continue. “The type of man who lies to get what he wants, who will not hesitate to break an agreement made in good faith. The type of man who would turn a girl against her own family and -,” 

“What?” Gendry had barked, louder than intended. “You really think she would ‘turn against’ you lot for anyone?” Gendry stared at Catelyn, wondering if she knew her own daughter at all. “Arya loves her family more than anyone I’ve ever met, Mrs. Stark, I -,”

“I would appreciate it if you would refrain from interrupting me to tell me things I already know about about the woman I raised,” Catelyn had snapped, her voice low and quick. “I know why she likes you. You’re everything she’s ever wanted - a troubled, off-limits criminal, exactly the kind of boy that might piss me off.” He didn’t even have a criminal record, but he had known there was no use getting into that. 

“_Might?_” Gendry had laughed, and she had narrowed her eyes at the humour in his question. 

“I have opened up my house to you this Christmas because I love my daughter and I do not want to push her away, but do not mistake that for my approval. I know how this ends.” Gendry had scowled at this.

“And how’s that?” He’d expected her to say that Arya would get bored, that she would find some other way to piss her mother off. Catelyn’s answer surprised him. 

“You remind me of him, Gendry,” she had said, simply and coldly. He had blinked at her and swallowed. 

“Robert?” He had asked. She had nodded. 

“Your father and both of your uncles have been divorced, Gendry, and all three of the marriages collapsed as a result of infidelity. An inability to keep your belts buckled appears to be something of a family failing.” He had said nothing to this, though he could feel his temper rising. “Robert loved Lyanna just as you say you love Arya, and it wasn’t enough for him. He insisted that she was it for him, and still he strayed. You’ve given me enough reason to trust that the apple does not fall far from the tree.” 

“I’m not -,”

“You are your father’s son, Gendry, like it or not. One day, you’re going to break my daughter’s heart. And it will be in every tabloid and she will have to live with every news outlet telling her that she should have known better,” Catelyn had opened the door for him to leave, “And I’ll be there to pick up the pieces.” Gendry had sighed and shook his head before meeting her eyes once more. 

“With respect, Mrs. Stark, if children grew up to be exactly like their parents, I’m not sure I’d be quite so fond of Arya.” He had stormed from the room and to his quarters immediately, not wanting to speak to anyone - especially not Arya - about the exchange he had just had with Catelyn Stark. 

He fell asleep angry that night. He had known Catelyn didn’t liked him, that she had only allowed him to join them for Christmas so as not to upset Arya. Gendry supposed Catelyn had reason to be somewhat wary of him - he had been hired to look after her horses and her manor grounds, and he had ended up with her daughter underneath him (and on top of him) (and parallel to him, getting a splinter in her back from the old stable door). And, yes, the first time he and Catelyn had spoken, Gendry had agreed to never see her daughter again and had taken her money with no intention of keeping his end of the bargain. He hadn’t exactly earned Catelyn’s trust in that moment.

And Gendry could admit that he had not played the role of the perfect boyfriend in Catelyn’s eyes. He accompanied Arya to the dinners and galas, but he forgot his tie most of the time, and his hair was almost always a bit of a mess from his helmet (and yes, he understood that a man who rode a motorbike to dinners hosted by the Prime Minister was not exactly a mother’s dream come true). Every boy Sansa had ever brought as a date had been charming, engaged, willing to smile and shake hands. Gendry was always just… there. Smiling at Arya, perhaps, and shaking any hands that were held out to him, but never particularly interested in the rich, smarmy attendees. 

He certainly hadn’t been a ‘good influence’ on her, at least not in Catelyn’s eyes. Arya still attended her rallies and protests and demonstrations. She was more visible in the crowds than ever, in fact, sitting upon Gendry’s shoulders. There had also been an increase in the number of photographers following her around and slapping images of her in the tabloids - the press loved a picture of Ned Stark’s daughter climbing on the back of Gendry’s bike, or of the Prime Minister’s illegitimate son giving Arya a piggyback out of a bar, both of them rather intoxicated. 

So, yes, Gendry could see why Catelyn didn’t love him. But she was wrong about him being his father’s son. She was wrong in her certainty that he would stray from Arya, that he might let some other woman and his apparently hereditary lustfulness ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had fallen asleep angry at the very notion. 

Hours later, he had awoken to Arya tucking herself into his chest. “You liar,” she grumbled, “You said you’d sneak into my room tonight.” Gendry had hesitated, not wanting to tell her all of the assumptions Catelyn had made about him - about them. “I went to bed wearing cute underwear for nothing.” He had smiled despite himself and pulled her closer. 

-

He had worn a tie to the next party and had even asked Arya to help him fix his hair, but Catelyn didn’t seem to notice his efforts.

-

When the papers had published those photographs of him speaking to his classmate about a textbook, Catelyn had called Arya. Gendry had sat silently on her and Mycah’s couch as she shut the door to her room and spoke to her mother, the conversation growing louder and louder with every word exchanged. Gendry had only heard snippets but it was enough to tell him what conclusions Catelyn had drawn from those pictures. 

(The snippets had also been enough to tell Gendry how much Arya trusted him and when she had stormed from her room and threw herself at him, he had caught her and let her kiss him furiously. She’d kissed him until she had no more frustration to offer and her lips had slowed into a careful, purposeful rhythm, and Catelyn Stark was the furthest thing from his mind). 

-

“Hey, can you come pick me up?”

“I thought you were cycling over?” 

“Yeah, I was until someone opened their door in front of me and I kinda swerved and hit a parked car and -”

“_What?_ Arya, are you alright? Where are you? Why are you calling me, call an ambulance!”

“Someone’s already done that but I’m fine, really. Just come get me so that I don't have to go to the hospital. I’m just down the road from Hot Pie’s, in front of that weird little doll store.” 

Gendry had already thrown a jacket on, not even bothering to lock his door as he had rushed down the stairs and towards Arya. “Are you hurt?” He had demanded, rounding a corner. 

“Er,” she had started, “I’m probably fine but I can’t really sit up.” He heard a female voice on the other end say something about broken ribs and not moving.

“You broke your ribs?” He had cried, speeding up and finally reaching the corner on which Hot Pie’s stood. There was a little crowd forming at the end of the street.

“They’re fine,” she had insisted. He had hung up on her when he reached the group of onlookers, shoving them out of his way as he had moved to kneel beside her. An older woman had given him a comforting smile and explained that the paramedics were on their way. Arya had rolled her eyes but Gendry had thanked her. “I’m _fine_,” Arya had continued to tell them. Her forearm was scratched and she held a hand to her ribcage. Gendry had touched her forehead carefully and ignored every request from her to pick her up and take her to his place so that she could avoid going to the hospital. He had held her hand in the ambulance as her eyerolls subsided into a look of genuine discomfort. “I don’t want to go to the hospital,” she had said quietly as the ambulance pulled in. He promised her it would be okay. She shook her head at him as the doctors wheeled her away.

In hindsight, Gendry could have killed the person responsible for the news alert notification. Catelyn Stark had seen “Arya Stark injured in bike accident” alongside a photo of Gendry kneeling over her in his leather jacket and hadn’t felt the need to read any further. 

He had been dialling Catelyn’s number from the hospital waiting area when a call from the woman herself came through.

“What hospital?” She had demanded. 

“The university one. Mrs. Stark, she’s -,” but Catelyn had already hung up on him.

Arya was fine, mostly. Her arm had been cleaned and bandaged and she had cracked two ribs - these would heal naturally within a few weeks, but she had been instructed to restrict her activities and to take painkillers. She scowled on the hospital bed as Gendry promised the doctor that he wouldn’t let her overdo herself over the next month or so. 

He had left the room to get Arya a soda and found himself face-to-face with Catelyn Stark. 

“She’s alright!” Gendry had told her before she could ask, “It’s only a couple of cracked ribs but she’ll be -,”

“Don’t,” Catelyn has snapped, “Don’t you dare speak to me right now. Not before I’ve seen her, not in this wretched place.” She had moved past him and through the door to Arya swiftly, leaving him to resume his journey to the vending machine with his head down and his stomach churning with realization. 

_This wretched place._ He had swallowed, remembering Arya’s desperation to avoid going to the hospital.

Gendry remembered the day Ned Stark died. It had been a horrible accident, late on a summer’s evening. He had died the next morning after doctors had struggled through the night in attempts to save his life. The crash had happened on the southside of the Blackwater River - not too far from the uni hospital, really. Catelyn’s words echoed in his head again, and Arya’s discomfort made sense now - Ned Stark had died in this hospital. 

The urge to return to Arya’s side had overwhelmed him - he wanted to take her home, to take her away from this place that held such sadness. He had reached the room and found the doctor standing awkwardly outside. She had given him an uncomfortable sort of grimace and Gendry had paused outside the door. Arya was yelling at her mother. 

“Will you _listen_, Mum, I wasn’t on his fucking motorbike. Gendry wasn’t even there. I crashed my own bike, that shitty little fixie you’ve been wanting me to replace for years.”

For a moment, there had only been silence. Catelyn had said something quietly and Arya had replied in a calmer tone before the silence returned. Gendry had been about to enter the room again when the door opened and Catelyn met his eyes. She had motioned for the doctor to return to Arya, her eyes not leaving Gendry’s as she shut the door. 

“I’m sorry,” they had both said at once. Neither had smiled at their symmetry, but Gendry had nodded, encouraging Catelyn to continue. 

“I thought she had been hurt on that bike of yours. I apologize for jumping to conclusions.” He had only nodded again. “I’ve always hated that little bike,” Catelyn had carried on with a shudder. 

“I’m sorry I let them take her here,” Gendry said, doing his best to not look at his feet, “I should have asked them to go to King’s Landing Central or - I don’t know. I know she doesn’t want to be here.” Catelyn had eyed him carefully. 

“No, she doesn’t. But I’d rather have her here than not in any hospital at all.” She had braced herself as she said her next words. “Thank you for getting her here.” They didn’t say anything more. 

(He had apologized to Arya as he lay with her that night and she had shaken her head at his words and tried to turn to face him. Gendry had placed a hand on her midsection and rolled her body back, holding her still and reminding her not to twist too much. He had kissed her on the forehead and she had told him that it hadn’t been as bad as she thought it might be. Nothing ever is.)

(Arya’s ribs healed just fine, despite her complete inability to sit still. She had grown annoyed with Catelyn for the daily reminders to take her pain medication, and with Gendry for insisting on carrying her up her stairs for the first couple of weeks of her recovery.)

-

Gendry had thought it rather hypocritical of Catelyn to tell him that she didn’t want him to date her daughter because he reminded her of Robert, all the while remaining friends with Robert, keenly aligning her politically-inclined eldest son with the charming PM. 

At one rather painful dinner, his uncle Renly had asked Gendry if he had ever considered a career in politics, considering how passionate he was about housing issues and the needs of the lower class. Gendry had snorted into his soup. 

“No,” he had said bluntly, “I’ve no interest in any of that.” 

“You should at least consider it,” Melisandre, Stannis’ assistant-turned-mistress-turned-chief-advisor, had cooed, her gaze making Gendry as uncomfortable as it always did. “You could do great things. You’re so like your father.” 

“I don’t think I am, actually,” Gendry had snapped. Robert had been busy at the other end of the table, getting drunk and telling Jeyne how very beautiful she was and how very lucky Robb was. He hadn’t heard Gendry’s words. 

Catelyn Stark had, though, and Gendry could tell she felt as though they may have partially aimed at her. She had been right in that.

-

He had pulled his bike up outside Arya’s building as Catelyn dropped her younger daughter off after brunch one Sunday. Catelyn had given his bike the same disapproving look she always did - something Gendry had learned to ignore. He had nodded in greeting and handed Arya the shopping bag.

“What’s that?” Catelyn had inquired, looking curiously at the pharmacy logo stamped onto the plastic bag. 

“Oh, I was out of tampons,” Arya shrugged, before looking into the bag and smiling, “and Kit-Kats, apparently.” She had beamed at Gendry and Catelyn had looked surprised. 

“That was good of you, Gendry,” she had said stiffly, before she kissed her daughter’s cheek and departed.

-

Gendry had run into Catelyn at the little bakery uptown that made the best carrot cake in King’s Landing, according to Arya (“It’s the icing!” she always insisted). They were both picking up the birthday cake they had ordered for Arya’s birthday. Catelyn’s had been big, with two tiers and an elegant topper that wished her daughter a happy birthday. Gendry’s had been a tiny, delicate thing, hardly bigger than a cupcake. He had asked them to write “Happy birthday, carrot cake is gross” but the decorators had told him that there wasn’t room. 

Catelyn had smiled at his pathetic cake. “I suppose I’ll see you for her proper party tomorrow evening?” she had asked with a forced sort of politeness. Gendry had nodded. 

“This one is just for this evening, yeah,” he had said, holding up the little cake awkwardly. 

“It is her favourite,” Catelyn had said from behind the large box. Gendry had offered to help her to her car with it, an offer that she had accepted with a surprised smile. 

-

There had been a minor security breach at a fundraiser - a young man enamoured with Sansa had made it past the exterior doors and breached the banquet hall. He had hardly taken two steps inside the room when security pulled him down and the brief panic lingered for only a moment or two. 

Gendry hadn’t noticed that he had stepped in front of Arya, but at some point he had, blocking her entirely from view. Arya shoved his arm, muttering something that sounded like “stupid”. He had felt Catelyn’s eyes on him and turned, surprised to find her looking at him with something close to approval.

Catelyn bade him good night that evening, nodding politely as he and Arya had made to leave and for once not feeling the need to remind him to drive safely with her daughter on the back of that bike. 

-

When Arya got into law school, her mother had insisted the family go for dinner to celebrate. Gendry only heard Arya’s side of the phone conversation.

“But Mum, Gendry’s already made a reservation at this little tapas place we like.”

“Well he _says_ it’s to celebrate my acceptance, yes, but I think it’s actually to celebrate himself for being right about me getting in. He’s been telling me I’ve no reason to worry for months now, and sure enough -,”

“Yeah, Mum, it was kind of him.” Arya gave Gendry a funny little smile as she rolled her eyes at her mother.

“Oh. I mean, yes, I suppose. We’ll give them a ring and see if we can have the booking changed.”

And so Gendry’s intimate celebratory dinner had been hijacked by Arya’s mother and her siblings and Sansa’s then-boyfriend (Harry, who turned out to be a dick) and Robb’s fiancée (Jeyne, who had never tried tapas before and was quite charmed by the little plates).

Sharna, the squat woman who ran the place, was quite thrilled to squeeze more guests into her restaurant, not even batting an eye at the arrival of Robb Stark himself. In fact, she told the eldest Stark son that he was opening his mussels all wrong and offered him a bib. 

Gendry had glanced at Catelyn, worried she might be insulted on her son’s behalf. She was busy beaming, though, and she actually thanked Gendry as they left for choosing such a pleasant spot to celebrate her daughter. 

-

When he and Arya had moved in together, Gendry had expected Catelyn to protest. She did, but not for the reasons he expected. The size of their flat, she insisted, was an issue. And wouldn’t it be nicer to just own the whole thing, instead of only the third floor? She had offered to inquire with the landlord about purchasing all four floors. Arya had refused, insisting that the two of them only needed the third floor flat. 

Her mother bought them a toaster oven and a hefty gift certificate to a furniture store, because “if I went and picked out a nice sofa for you, it would no doubt be too large for that tiny den of yours”. 

-

When Robert’s health declined, Catelyn was worried for Gendry. He could see it in her eyes - a mother’s concern. He remembered it in his own mother’s face. That look was the last memory he had of his favourite foster mother, Marya, as she drove away from the disciplinary boy’s home he had been moved to.

It had made him realize properly that Catelyn didn’t hate him anymore.

-

Tonight, she welcomed him to the wedding with a hug and told him he suited his haircut. She asked him about work and demanded that he update her on Arya’s new articling internship with a high-profile firm. 

“She hardly ever tells me about career, I swear,” Catelyn said with exasperation, looking over to where Arya was crouched low to carry on an animated conversation with one of Jeyne’s little nieces. Gendry smiled before revealing how very content Arya seemed in her new role, and how her boss was far less intimidating than he had seemed in her interview. Catelyn’s eyes crinkled with happiness as they spoke about her daughter. 

-

Arya had talked about Jon the most, and so Jon was the Stark sibling that Gendry had been the most excited and the most nervous to meet (Jon wasn’t even a Stark by name, and he wasn’t technically even her sibling, but this mattered little to Arya). Unfortunately, Jon worked up north, researching climate patterns and glacial melting. He was often without phone service and his trips south were quite infrequent. 

The first time Gendry met Jon was over Facetime, a few weeks after Arya and him had reunited in the city. Arya had gasped and dropped her fork when Jon’s name appeared on her phone screen. Her eggs were forgotten as soon as she answered the call, beaming at her brother. 

“That’s not your flat,” Jon had said, his voice a little choppy from the thin connection. Arya had grinned. 

“I’m at Gendry’s,” she had said, “He’s made breakfast since I stayed here last night.” Gendry had groaned internally, not sure that Jon needed to know that Arya had slept over. 

“So you two are alright, then?” Jon had asked carefully, and Gendry found himself wincing. He supposed Jon, like Catelyn and Robb, had reason to be wary of a guy who had taken Robb’s money _and_ lied about his intentions with it.

“Better than good,” Arya had said cheerfully, “He’s right here, say hello!” She spun the phone to face Gendry, whose eyes widened. He was shirtless and unshaven, with his hair looking… well, it certainly suggested that they had done more than just sleep the night before. 

“Er, hi,” he had said, attempting to flatten his hair as Jon raised his eyebrows. 

“Hi,” Jon had said, “Nice to meet you.” 

“And you,” Gendry had replied, “Arya’s told me loads about you.” Jon had smiled at this. 

“Well, the last time she and I spoke, I only had service for fifteen minutes, and she spent about twelve of them talking about you.” Gendry had looked at Arya, who only rolled her eyes and flipped the phone back to face her. 

“Are you coming home for Christmas?” she had asked, and her face fell at Jon’s reaction. 

“I’m sorry, Arya, really, the winter just really doesn’t allow for much time off. I’ll ring you, though, I promise. And I’ll visit in the spring. Look, I wanted to call you because the sky is putting on a show tonight.” Jon flipped his phone and Arya shifted so that Gendry could watch as the night sky shimmered with stripes of blue and green and purple. “Pretty cool, right?”

-

“We should visit him sometime,” Gendry had suggested as Arya got her things together to leave. 

“It’s cold all year round,” she had said, “And some days the sun doesn’t even rise.” Gendry shrugged. 

“Just for a few days, then. We could see those aurora... whatever they’re called. We could see the northern lights in person.” She had smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

-

He met Jon properly the next spring. Jon had been granted one weekend to spend in King’s Landing and Arya had nearly knocked him off his feet with the force of her hug as they arrived at Robb’s home. 

Jon had multiple significant others to meet - Sansa had brought Harry, who Jon had greeted politely, though Gendry got the sense that Jon, too, hadn’t seen it lasting. Robb had invited Jeyne, his new (but rather serious) girlfriend, who was thrilled to hear all of the embarrassing stories Jon could share about her beau. And then there had been Gendry, who had shaken Jon’s hand and felt a wave of relief at Jon’s genuine smile. 

The evening had been lovely and loud, though Gendry had learned far too much about Theon Greyjoy’s sexual endeavors. It had been less of a formal dinner party and more of a mess of introductions and reunions and laughter, and Gendry had found himself smiling without being nudged (as Arya so often had to do at most parties they attended together). 

“She was really sad for a long while,” Jon’s voice had startled Gendry, who had been sent to the kitchen to fetch Sansa and Arya another bottle of white wine. “After Ned died, she wasn’t the same Arya. When she called, her voice sounded sort of empty and distant.” Gendry had nodded. She had told him about this, about how low she had felt, how getting out of bed had been a struggle for months. “She threw herself into helping others, and I think it helped her heal a bit. She became more like herself again.” Gendry had swallowed, waiting for Jon to reach his point. “When I called her last summer, she sounded happy. Properly happy, like she had found a bit of peace or something.” There was a pause, and Jon had surveyed Gendry carefully. “And then you left her.” _Ah. _

Gendry had opened his mouth to respond, but Jon had only held a hand up.

“You don’t have to explain. I know what happened, and I don’t begrudge you for what you did - I think it only made her love you more, if I’m honest. But it hurt her all the same.” Gendry had nodded again. “When we spoke after you left, her voice sounded empty again.” He had known she was miserable, thinking he had taken the money and ran off. Gendry had also been miserable for those few weeks, waiting around for her to come down to the city - but he, at least, had known that there was hope for them. Arya had been stuck with her family and her thoughts, no doubt thinking him a greedy, spineless prick who could attach a monetary amount to how much he wanted to be with her. “I just don’t want to hear her voice sound like that again, yeah?” Jon had looked at him. 

“Never,” Gendry had said, “Not if I can help it.” Jon had nodded and smiled. 

“Good.” And it was.

-

Tonight, Jon sat beside Gendry and turned to watch Arya dance with Ned Dayne. 

“Never liked him much,” Jon frowned, watching Ned laugh at Arya’s missteps. 

“Ah, he’s alright,” Gendry laughed. He had been so ready to hate Ned Dayne. Arya’s handsome, rich ex-boyfriend who owned a yacht? Please. Gendry had been certain that Ned would be exactly the sort of guy Gendry would be sorely tempted to punch in the jaw. 

But then he had met Ned, and Gendry realized that Ned was just sort of… dull. He was friendly and polite, and Gendry could see why Catelyn would prefer him as a suitor for her daughter. Ned invited them to spend a weekend on his yacht (they had not yet made it down to Dorne, but if Gendry was honest with himself, he would happily tag along if Arya showed interest - Arya in a bikini was always a good thing in Gendry’s eyes) and had made an effort to shake Gendry’s hand at every stupid party they both attended. Ned had seemed eager to make it clear that there was no competition or awkwardness to be found. Arya has joked this was because he was scared of Gendry but Gendry got the sense that Ned was quite genuine. He wasn’t the sort of guy Gendry would be desperate to grab a pint with, but he wasn’t so bad, really. 

(Besides, Arya had once drunkenly created a venn diagram comparing sex with Ned Dayne and sex with Gendry, and Gendry really didn’t feel as though he had to worry about Arya running back into the Dornishman’s arms after that.)

“You next then?” Jon asked, and Gendry frowned. “To get married.”

“Pardon me?” Gendry spluttered.

“You and Arya have been together longer than Robb and Jeyne,” Jon shrugged with a wry smile. Gendry’s eyes widened. He had thought about it, of course he had. Arya was the only girl he had ever wanted to marry, the only girl he had ever pictured in a white dress, smiling as she walked towards him. He had never pictured this sort of wedding - a big party in a banquet hall with expensive napkins and a band that had won Marillion’s Best New Artist award last year - but he had certainly thought about marrying Arya. “Mate, I’m joking. She’s not even twenty-five, you’ve got a few years yet.” 

Gendry nodded and chuckled with Jon, but his mind was on Arya now. He loved her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He didn’t have a ring, and he wasn’t sure they were ready for a _wedding_, or even for an engagement just now, but he sort of wanted to tell her anyway. Tell her that she was it for him. “‘Scuse me for a minute, Jon.”

Arya was thanking Ned Dayne for the dance, and Gendry was going to go and drag her out for another dance and tell her how much he wanted to marry her one day, if she’d have him. She would likely have laughed at him and told him he was silly before making him promise to never make her have a wedding as big as this one. But something caught Gendry’s eye and he paused.

Sansa was tearing from the room, Dickon Tarly shaking his head in confusion and exasperation as she fled the banquet hall. Gendry glanced around - Jon was now chatting with Arianne Martell, who had swooped into Gendry’s abandoned chair and looked rather interested in what Jon was saying. Robb was engaged with Jeyne’s extended family, thanking them for their generous gifts. Theon was missing, likely off with a bridesmaid somewhere. Bran was quietly reading his book under the table. Rickon was nowhere to be found.

Gendry looked around for Arya and saw her now comforting her mother, who seemed to have finally succumbed to the emotional side effects of seeing her firstborn married. 

He searched the hall for someone else who might be able to help, who might know what to do to dry Sansa’s tears. _Ah, fuck it._ He walked swiftly out of the hall after the elder Stark sister. 

-

Sansa had been a surprise. She had been the reason Arya and Gendry’s relationship had blown up in the tabloids, the reason his life had become so complicated without warning. And yet, Gendry found that he had trouble resenting her for long. 

She wasn’t like Arya, not really. Sansa would cringe slightly at Gendry’s messy hair and ill-fitting suits. She would chastise Arya for kissing him so openly at dinners, and she shuddered at the mere mention of his motorbike. Sansa was proper, her hair always perfect and her date always some guy who looked like a Ken doll. But uptight tendencies and obsession with image aside, Sansa was a romantic, and she couldn’t help but swoon a little bit at Arya and Gendry’s story. 

The forbidden romance, the poor-boy-falling-for-a-rich-girl thing, the summer-fling-turned-true-love aspect, the unknown complicated family history - it was exactly Sansa’s cup of tea, and for months she gushed over them. 

“It’s weird,” Arya had confessed early on, “You’re exactly the type she would usually turn her nose up at. Instead she’s acting like you’re some dreamboat straight out of a romance novel.” 

“Am I not a dreamboat straight out of a romance novel?” Gendry had teased, which had led to Arya insisting that he could only claim that title if he ripped her bodice open, a challenge he had accepted with vigor. 

-

At first, Sansa’s idea of getting to know Gendry was by inviting him to join her then-boyfriend Trystane’s gentlemen’s club - he had refused as politely has he could manage. Sansa was a socialite in the most typical sense of the word and though he appreciated her approval (especially in the face of Catelyn’s initial outright disdain for him), it took a while for Gendry to get used to her. 

Sansa cared so much about how she might be perceived, how the general public might judge her based on a photograph or an out-of-context quote. She liked to be in control, and she seemed both stressed out by and slightly envious of Arya’s complete lack of regard for her ‘_image_’. A tabloid had suggested that Arya was ‘growing sloppy’ when she was photographed wearing one of Gendry’s shirts and leggings to pick up their take out. The next day, she had worn a matching pyjama set complete with slippers on her way to grab coffee. Sansa, meanwhile, didn’t leave her flat for a week when the papers had suggested she was looking “rather thin”. 

Sansa cared so much about what people thought that Gendry felt a little bad for her. And he, too, found that he envied Arya’s ability to shrug everything off - it was strange that he would have anything in common with Sansa Stark, but a lot of things in his life were strange now. 

-

“You two are perfect,” Sansa had cooed, reaching for Gendry’s phone on the table. “Gendry, can I take a photo?” They had been at one of Theon’s legendary Halloween parties. The theme that year had been ‘Meta’, which Gendry hadn’t believed was an actual party theme. Arya and Gendry were dressed as an angel and a knight, respectively. The Stark sisters had insisted that Gendry watch the modern ‘Florian + Jonquil’ movie adaptation that the costume referred to, though he hadn’t really understood much of it. Sansa loved it for the romantic language and the costumes, and Arya for the soundtrack and avant-garde cinematography. Gendry had mostly liked the car chases, if he was honest with himself.

“It’s meta because it’s a costume of a costume from a movie,” Arya had shrugged, “Plus, you look good in armour.” Gendry had gone along with it, mostly because Arya was quite stunning with her white angel wings. 

“Gendry, lean down to kiss Arya’s hand,” Sansa had demanded, holding up his phone. 

“Why?” 

“You saw the movie, didn’t you?” Sansa had frowned, and Gendry had rolled his eyes and turned to Arya. She blushed as he leaned down to kiss her knuckles, her eyes widening a little in surprise at his willingness to participate in Sansa’s photo op. 

“Now kiss him, Arya,” Sansa had said, still holding Gendry’s phone, positively beaming. Gendry had started to protest, but Arya had already tugged him downwards and he was lost to her will. His hand had tucked itself behind a wing on her back as she had cupped his face. They kissed like star-crossed teenagers in love until Sansa interrupted cheerily a few moments later. “There you go, Gendry. You’ve already got two followers.” 

“Huh?” He said, breaking away from Arya as Sansa handed him his phone back. 

“I’ve made you an Instagram account. It’s about time, I figured. You’ve just made your first post.” Gendry had unlocked his phone to find his new Instagram profile open to a post featuring two pictures. The first had shown a surprised Arya holding her hand out to his knightly lips and the other showed her pulling him into a kiss. Gendry had smiled briefly at the sight before wrinkling his nose and shaking his head.

“But I don’t know how to use this,” he said, “I’m not gonna -,”

“Oh, you don’t have to post anything, I can take care of that,” Sansa had laughed. “I just think you two are too lovely to not have your life together documented. At least on my terms, rather than the papers’.” Gendry had turned to Arya, who appeared rather amused. 

“No caption,” Arya had noted, grinning at Sansa, “_Very_ Gendry.” 

“Arya, why are you encourag-,” 

“Shh,” Arya had cut in, elbowing him lightly, “We look good.”

“Even better than Claire and Leo,” Sansa had sighed. 

-

In the two years since, Sansa had never given Gendry the password for his Instagram account, nor had she taught him how to use it. Neither sister was willing to walk him through the process of deleting his account. The app sat untouched on his homescreen, occasionally notifying him about a rush of likes and comments from his ‘fans’ (Sansa’s words, not his) when Sansa had posted something new. It was strange - he could count the number of one-on-one conversations he’d had with Sansa on one hand, and here she was pretending to be him on the internet. And he was sort of alright with it. 

“She’s good at making it seem as if it’s really you posting,” Arya had recently mused as she looked at the image that @gendry.waters had just shared, which showed Gendry laughing at one of Arya’s jokes at some dinner. Gendry had to admit that Sansa _was_ rather good at taking candids of them, though he’d rolled his eyes as he had watched Arya leave a comment about how he wasn’t scowling for once. “She only posts, like, three times a year - that’s _very_ you,” Arya had carried on, “Plus, they’re almost all about how much you like me.” She had smiled and Gendry had rolled his eyes, though he figured that if he _did_ know how to use Instagram, Arya Stark would be the thing he would want to document the most.

-

Sansa herself always seemed to be searching for some sort of romance out of a storybook. After her horrid and very public break-up with Joffrey Baratheon, she dated a guy named Podrick, who was nice until he was offered a job in Lannisport and didn’t think that long distance would be worth trying. Sansa had apparently wept over Podrick for weeks before finding her version of a bad boy in Aegon Targaryen, who dyed his hair blue and lived to be photographed in his designer coats alongside Sansa’s designer skirts. They had made a stylish duo, but Sansa had quickly grown tired of his constant need to be in the spotlight, and things ended after mere months. After Aegon, she had dated Trystane, a Dornish guy who was fun but apparently too much of a partier for Sansa to keep up with.

Gendry had been around to witness Sansa falling into the arms of Harry Hardyng, the heir to the Hardyng real estate fortune and a grade-A prick. He had done his best to hook himself into the Stark family, encouraging Catelyn to invest in the project he was developing in the Reach and doing his best to cozy up to Gendry until he realized Gendry (at the time) wasn’t guaranteed any of the Baratheon fortune. Sansa had broken up with Harry when he referred to their relationship as a “partnership”. She had sat, furious, on Arya and Gendry’s couch as she explained how he had insisted that they bad both always been in it for publicity. Arya had offered to go hit him, but Sansa had confessed that she had already slapped him and it hadn’t helped her mood at all. 

Now, Sansa was dating the large, handsome, incredibly dull Dickon Tarly and apparently things were not going well. 

-

Gendry found her on a covered garden patio her head in her hands as she leant on the railing overlooking the beautiful hedges and gardens of Robb and Jeyne’s venue. It was late September and the evening air was warm. Sansa was shaking slightly. Gendry couldn’t tell if she was sobbing or hyperventilating - perhaps both. 

“Er, Sansa?” He called, “Are you alright?” She froze and pulled her hands away from her face, turning to look at Gendry as she wiped her hand across her tear-stained cheek clumsily. 

“Gendry,” she said, sounding about as surprised by his presence as he felt. “I’m f-,” but whatever word she was hoping to reassure him with got stuck in her throat and she swallowed as new tears sprung to her eyes. 

Gendry approached her hesitantly - he wasn’t much of a hugger when it came to people not named Arya, but Sansa looked as though she needed a hug. “Do you need me to go beat Dickon up?” He joked as she put her arms around his waist and cried into his shirt. He winced, realizing that his lame attempts at humour were likely not what Sansa needed at present, but he thought he heard a small chuckle mixed in amongst the sniffles against his chest. 

“He’s done nothing wrong,” she said, stepping back from him and wiping her eyes again. “Gods, I’m so stupid.” She went back to the railing and Gendry joined her in leaning upon it, looking out at the dusky sky, not sure what to say. “He told me he loved me.” 

“Oh.” That didn’t sound so bad. Sansa and Dickon had been together for almost a year, which seemed like plenty of time to fall in love. Hells, he had fallen in love with Arya in mere weeks. “And you don’t…,” 

“Not even a little bit,” she sighed. “I told him we were moving too fast, which is ridiculous because we’re not! He’s not. It’s not his fault I’m…,” she buried her face in her hands again. 

“You don’t have to love him,” Gendry said. 

“But I should by now!” Sansa cried. “I should love him. I should have been able to fall in love with a man by now, surely. I’ve tried so hard, Gendry.” He blinked at her. He had never seen Sansa like this, all frantic and wild-eyed. “I’ve tried so hard to love one of them,” she whispered, “I just can’t make myself fall for the people I’m supposed to fall for.” 

“That’s normal, Sansa,” he laughed, “We don’t get to choose who we love. Look at Arya - she didn’t exactly find the ideal candidate, did she? Your mum hated me for ages.” Sansa gave him a sad little smile and sighed. 

“At least you’re a boy, though,” she said. Gendry paused for a moment, processing these words. 

“Wait -,” he started, and Sansa shut her eyes as if she was in pain and nodded. Gendry’s lips parted in surprise as Sansa groaned and looked back out at the gardens. 

“I’ve never said it out loud,” she said quietly, “That I’m… That I like…” Gendry gave her a second to breathe in. “Girls,” she exhaled, “I like girls. I thought I liked both and I tried so hard to find a man to love so that I could ignore this part of me, but…”

“You only like girls,” Gendry finished, and Sansa nodded. 

“I suppose you think I’m being a total spaz about this, but I’m not like Arya. I’m not… cool and different and all that. I’m normal and I’m boring and I look terrible with short hair, Gendry.” She was half crying and half laughing now. “Gods, I can’t believe you’re the first person I’ve told. If you ever wanted revenge for those photos I sent Jeyne Poole…,” His head snapped to face her, and he saw a trace of genuine worry in her eyes.

“Sansa, I’d never. This is your business for as long as you want to keep it your business.” She smiled as he carried on. “And you’re not boring at all, you’re a very nice person who can keep her hair as long as she pleases. There’s no lesbian rulebook - at least not to my knowledge.” Sansa snorted.

“Maybe there should be,” she sighed, “I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. I’ve only ever been with girls when I’m drunk, and half of the time it was done under the guise of impressing a boy.” Sansa shook her head and Gendry offered her a smile. 

“You can take your time,” he said, “And I’m sure there are lots of girls out there who would jump at the chance to help acquaint you with the ins-and-outs of it all.” 

“Maybe I just need to convince my mother to hire a pretty groundskeeper next summer,” she said wistfully. “Show you two what a real scandal is.”

“Please, as if you could out-scandal Robert Baratheon’s bastard’s secret summer romance with Ned Stark’s daughter. We’re untouchable.” They both laughed at that.

-

The sound of footsteps made Gendry and Sansa both look up, but it was only Arya. She looked curiously at the pair of them as she approached. 

“Mum wants us all inside for a photo,” she said, “Sansa, have you been crying? Do I need to go back in and beat Dickon up?” Sansa laughed and wiped at her eyes again.

“I’m fine, Arya,” she said, “Better than fine.” Sansa looked at Gendry and swallowed before turning to her sister and wringing her hands. “I was just telling Gendry… I’m - Gods, he’s lovely Arya, don’t you ever hurt him.” Arya frowned before looking up at Gendry in bewilderment. 

“What’s going on?” She said nervously. Gendry looked at Sansa, who looked as though she was steeling herself.

“I’m gay,” Sansa said, “I like girls. Only girls, not boys. I’ve tried boys, it doesn’t work.” She swallowed nervously as she looked at her sister. Arya, for her part, didn’t look the slightest bit surprised. Instead, she beamed at Sansa and pulled her into a tight hug. 

“I love you, Sans,” she breathed, “I’m so happy you feel okay with telling us now.” 

“You knew?” Gendry and Sansa said at once. Arya shrugged. 

“I mean, it’s not right to speculate on others’ sexuality when it’s really none of my business. But yeah, I was like, ninety-nice percent sure. You _hate_ action movies but you watched all of the Nymeria of Rhoyne series without being able to look away from the screen.” Sansa hugged her sister tighter. 

-

Sansa linked an elbow with each of Arya and Gendry as they made their way back to the banquet hall. 

“I love you two,” she said. 

“We love you, too” Arya said. And they did. 

-

Corralling the Stark siblings was no minor feat. Sansa emerged from the ladies room looking fresh faced and clear of any evidence of tears. Bran had to be dragged away from his novel and Rickon had to be dragged away from one of Jeyne’s cousins. Dickon had disappeared, and Catelyn had expressed concern until Sansa casually insisted that he had felt ill and had headed home early. 

The first flash went off before anyone was ready. Theon was in the middle of congratulating Rickon’s successful evening. Bran had pulled out his phone to scroll through some article. Sansa was just sort of staring into space with a funny look on her face. Jon was moping as he watched Arianne Martell chat to an older, rather suave looking man. Robb and Jeyne were busy asking everyone to pay attention, and Arya was busy making Gendry laugh by leaning back against him and forcing him to catch her by her elbows to keep her upright. 

The second photo caught most of their reactions to Catelyn Stark loudly demanding that they sit still and look sharp for once in their lives. 

The third photo made Catelyn smile, finally satisfied. She still forced them to pose for twenty more. 

-

He wasn’t a good dancer, but Arya did drag him out for a few songs. Gendry preferred dancing with her when they were alone in their living room, where he could spin her without feeling ridiculous. But she was perfect in her bridesmaids dress and her hair looked nice as it fell loose of the careful half-up-half-down style that had been so pristine a few hours earlier. Sometimes, they would get their footing wrong and step on the other’s feet and they would both laugh. He wished they were the only ones in the room, but he pulled her closer anyway, smiling as she tucked her head into his chest and swayed with him. 

-

Arya went to fetch her coat and Gendry lingered by the side exit.

“You remind me of him,” Catelyn said, making Gendry jump. He swallowed and frowned. 

“Robert?” he asked. He felt his heart sink a little. He knew he looked at Arya the way Robert had looked at Lyanna, but the comparisons still made him feel rather uncomfortable. He had hoped that now, after years of loving Arya - truly and unflinchingly loving her - Catelyn no longer saw much of his father in him. 

“Ned,” Catelyn smiled. “Her father hated dancing in front of anyone, but he’d dance for me because he knew I liked to. And he’d dance for her. She’d pull him by the arm and she’d stand on the top of his feet and he’d walk her around the dancefloor, both of them laughing away.” 

He looked over at Arya, who was laughing as she said goodbye to Jon. 

Her brother had been right - Arya would be the next Stark down the aisle. 

-

They dropped Sansa off first. She didn’t say anything, but she gave them both a genuine smile and squeezed Arya’s hand. Arya was asleep by the time the taxi reached their home and Gendry carried her to bed. “Stupid,” she murmured as he lifted her up with ease and walked her across the threshold. 

He helped her shrug her dress off before she collapsed on the bed, asleep before he had even started on his tie. Gendry set his jacket on the chair (that one in the corner that always ended up with a pile of clothes on it) and stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

His shirt was stained with Sansa’s mascara and his eyes were tired, but he felt only warmth and happiness in his heart. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and froze with his mouth full of foaming toothpaste. 

1 missed call. 

1 new voicemail. 

-

“Gendry, hey! This is Edric. So cool to hear from you - this is crazy, mate! Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, I’ve just spent a month totally off the grid on the Summer Isles. It was an amazing experience, I really feel as if I got in touch with myself properly. Anyway, I’m back in the land of mobile service - I’ve just landed in Dorne and I’ll be in King’s Landing next weekend before I head back to Lys. Would you be free to grab a pint? Shoot me a text, bro. Man, this is so crazy, my other brothers and sisters aren’t going to believe this. Can’t wait to meet you! Sucks that this has only come out after he died, it would have been sort of cool to meet him, too. But let me know about that pint, yeah? Are you still dating Arya Stark? She can come if she wants. My friend thinks she’s like, the hottest woman on the planet. Hope that’s alright to say - oh, shit, it just beeped to tell me I’m running out of time. If you have a favourite watering hole in King’s Landing, I’d love to check it out. Really looking forward to -,” _End of message._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ned dayne is just a decent dude in this story - i feel as though he's earned that, right? we'll have to find someone else to piss gendry off. and i'm sure we will. 
> 
> also, in case you aren't familiar or it was not clear, [here](https://www.sbs.com.au/movies/sites/sbs.com.au.film/files/styles/full/public/romeo_juliet_704.jpg?itok=pfpt3dY3) is the inspiration for arya and gendry's halloween costumes. i can't help myself sometimes, alright?
> 
> thank you for all of your kind comments thus far.


	4. Edric

They had arranged to meet for lunch - the notion of bringing up the details of their father’s health issues over a pint seemed rather morbid - and Gendry felt ill. He had a brother and he was going to meet said brother and shake his hand and sit down for a meal with him. He was going to tell this kid that he wasn’t allowed to smoke, that he had to go see his doctor and get his blood pressure looked at, and that excessive drinking could make him very, very ill. 

Gendry groaned and collapsed onto the couch beside Arya, who immediately set aside her laptop and pulled him over so that his head was in her lap. 

“You’re going to be fine,” she said. Her tone was confident, and he hated how easy it was to believe her. She wasn’t soothing him for the sake of soothing him (though her fingers in his hair definitely took his mind off of the impending lunch date). Arya truly did think he would be fine. He sighed and shut his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a wreck about this,” he said, “You know I’m not always great with people and this is just…,” It was _different_. It mattered if he screwed this up. He didn’t want to scare his brother off before he even got to know him. 

“It’s different,” Arya finished for him. He opened his eyes to hers and she leaned down to kiss his forehead. “But you’re going to love him and he’s going to love you.” Gendry let himself believe her. 

-

“How’s that reading going, by the way?” He asked as he stepped into their bedroom to grab a jacket. Arya was sifting through endless old case files for the revenge porn lawsuit she was assisting her bosses with. 

Gendry had listened to her rant about the injustice of it and, though he had fully agreed that the victim had been put in a horrible position and the justice system was skewed to benefit her shithead of an ex, Gendry couldn’t help but smile at Arya’s righteous anger. She had found her calling and he couldn’t be happier for her, even if some days she came home furious at the world, and other days she came home disheartened by legal red tape. Most days, though, she came home invigorated and full of passion and Gendry often thought about the girl he had fallen in love with, the girl who wanted to make the world better, to help people who needed help. She was doing just that. 

“I’ve found a few things that might be useful,” Arya mused, setting aside some notes. She was taking up most of the kitchen counter now. “We’re basically looking for any precedents that take social media and consent into consideration. The ex-boyfriend trying to use Facebook’s privacy and ownership policy to his advantage, but I think we can flip that on him. We just need a stronger case.”

“What a dick,” Gendry said, frowning. 

“Right? Jaqen made a good point the other day about how that photo I had posted with my tits out was an example of a post shared _with_ consent to the public sphere, while this girl’s -,”

“Wait,” Gendry said, tugging his jacket on, “Your _boss_ brought up the fact that he’d seen that photo?” Arya rolled her eyes at his tone. 

“Yes, because it was relevant and appropriate within the context of the case.” 

“I’m not sure it’s ever ‘appropriate’ to tell your intern that you’ve seen her tits,” Gendry said, doing his best to not sound annoyed (and likely failing). He didn’t like the thought of some old slimy lawyer thinking about Arya topless. He had never met Jaqen, but everything Arya had told him until now had made him think she was in good hands. Now, he felt a little uneasy. Arya set her pen down and folded her arms. 

“It’s probably not appropriate to sleep with your mother’s employee at his place of work either, but that didn’t stop me,” she countered, her eyebrow raised. Gendry snorted. 

“Fine, yeah, you’ve got me there,” he said shortly, waiting for her to answer him properly. After a moment, Arya sighed. 

“Gendry, Jaqen is a professional. He didn’t say it in a creepy way - trust me, I’ve had enough people bring up that photo in an effort to hit on me to know the difference.” He sighed but conceded defeat. 

“I trust your judgement,” he said, “And I know you can take care of yourself, but you’re a very beautiful girl with a very big heart and some people will try to take advantage of that.” Arya rolled her eyes again but seemed to soften at his words. 

“I promise that you don’t need to worry about me,” she said, standing up and walking over the fix the collar on his jacket. “And I know how horrible some people are, believe me. I read about them every single day.” She looked up at him and smiled. “You’re not horrible though,” Arya said as she tugged him down to her and kissed him. “You’re a very beautiful boy with a very big heart and I definitely plan on taking advantage of that.” He pulled her closer and kissed her deeply, enjoying the little noise she made as he backed her up against the kitchen counter.

He had lifted her onto the counter and moved his lips to her neck when Arya sighed and pushed him away. “Don’t look so miserable,” she laughed, “We can finish this later. You’re going to be late for Edric if you don’t leave now.” 

Right. Edric. His _brother_. 

-

If Gendry was honest, Edric’s voicemail had made him nervous. He had talked a _lot_. He had sounded like one of those guys who had tribal tattoos and who talked too much about “the power of positive energy”. Not that there was anything wrong with positive energy - it just wasn’t really Gendry’s thing. 

-

It was weird. It was as if someone had painted an impressive portrait of him - almost identical to the real thing, but just very slightly off. 

Edric’s ears stuck out and his skin was more tan than Gendry’s. His hair was long, pulled up into a stylish bun, and his smile looked far more natural than Gendry’s ever would. He was around Arya’s age, if Gendry was guessing, and slightly shorter than himself - though perhaps a little broader. 

It was like one of Shireen’s Snapchat filters was being used on Gendry - this one turned him into a younger, cooler, guy who might be a member of a fraternity. 

Edric had a solid handshake and he looked absolutely thrilled to meet Gendry. Gendry gave him his best smile in return, knowing that if Arya was there she would have snorted at his obvious discomfort. 

“Well,” Edric said as the hostess left them alone, “this is weird, mate.” Gendry nodded. 

“It is,” he said, taking a sip of water. He hoped that the awkwardness he felt wasn’t evident on his face. He didn’t know where to start. They were silent for a moment. “So… you’ve got other siblings, then?” Edric’s face lit up and he nodded. 

“Three sisters, two brothers.” And he was off, telling Gendry about little Lara’s musical talent and Henry’s plans to go to business school. Edric was a big brother already, and he beamed with pride as he carried on about his actual family. Gendry found himself smiling - naturally, not forced. “How about you?” The question caught Gendry off guard. 

“Me?”

“Have you got siblings? Like, aside from me,” Edric chuckled at the last sentence. Gendry shook his head and Edric frowned. “Shit, this must be extra crazy for you, then. Did you, uh, know your mum?” He said it gingerly and Gendry nodded. 

“Yeah, I did. She was awesome but she died when I was a kid.” Edric’s face fell further. 

“Did you know Robert well?” He asked tentatively. Gendry let out a bark of laughter. He hesitated before deciding to be honest. 

“I sort of hated the guy, if I’m honest.” 

“Oh,” Edric said. Gendry realized then that he was being something of a downer. 

“It’s cool, though!” He laughed, hoping it sounded at least a little bit genuine. “I promise you, you’re better off not knowing him.” Edric frowned again before shrugging. 

“Fair enough, mate. I’ll take your word for it.” 

-

Gendry asked about Edric’s trip to be polite. Edric described how much he learned about himself, how little he cared for material goods, how healing a sunset could be. Gendry nodded along politely, hoping that Edric wouldn’t think that a sunset would heal the high blood pressure and risk of heart disease he may have inherited from his late father. 

-

Aside from Edric’s spiritual journey in the Summer Isles, they had more in common than Gendry had expected. Edric also hated jazz music and loved maths. They both thought the world of their mothers and preferred dogs to cats. Edric was also a massive football fan - though he was a dedicated supporter of Lys United, who were one of the richest, most unfairly stacked clubs in the Continental League. Gendry had always supported the Flea Bottom F.C., a historically bad team that had been relegated to the second-tier league when Gendry was in college. Edric did his best to not look smug as he asked Gendry whether or not Flea Bottom had won a match so far this season (they hadn’t). 

“Well their net worth is probably half of what that new Braavosi striker Lys just signed is getting paid,” Gendry countered, “There’s only so much they can do.” 

“You should invest,” Edric said, and Gendry laughed. 

“I suppose I could now,” he said. “And you could buy a few shares in Lys, if you wanted.” He remembered now why he had been instructed to contact Edric in the first place. Edric frowned at Gendry as he pulled the envelope from his jacket pocket and held it out. 

“Oh,” Edric said, “Right.” He scratched behind his ear, looking sort of uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t need… If you -,” he cut himself off, and gave Gendry a hapless look. Gendry only extended his hand further towards his brother.

“Edric, trust me, there’s more than enough to go around. Take what’s yours.” He slid the envelope across the table. Edric’s looked still more uneasy.

“I’ve always had money, though. And a family and sisters and brothers. I don’t need it,” Edric tailed off uncomfortably. 

“Neither do I,” Gendry said honestly, “I’ve got a good job and I split my rent and I’m sort of hoping to marry rich.” Edric smiled at this. “But it’s the only thing our dad did for us, really, so we might as well take it. Save it for a rainy decade. Or donate it!” He and Arya were currently ‘anonymously’ funding the ongoing expansion of the safehouse connected to the women’s shelter Arya volunteered at. The shelter staff all knew who the anonymous donors were - it was rather obvious based on the timing, and just how often Gendry stopped by to check in on the construction plans - but they said nothing (though one of them gave Arya a large tin of homemade cookies ‘just because’, and another insisted on hugging both Arya and Gendry anytime she saw them). 

Edric sighed and picked up the envelope warily. He flipped it over in his hand. Gendry knew that when he opened it, his eyes would bug at the number on the cheque. 

“Is it just us?” Edric asked quietly. “Are we the only ones?” Gendry shook his head and Edric raised his eyebrows. 

“We’re the only ones he came close to acknowledging, in his way - he sent your mum some money and they had an arrangement worked out, and then when I turned up he sort of… half-assed the whole fatherhood thing because he couldn’t avoid seeing me if I was dating Arya. But there are four others that he knew about and totally ignored.”

“_Four?_” Edric hissed, “Four other kids that he just -,”

“Yeah.” 

“What a bastard,” Edric said with a heavy exhale.

“Right? Not that you and I can talk,” Gendry joked and Edric snorted. 

“Have you talked to them yet?” Edric asked. 

“Stannis’ people are working on finding them.”

“Stannis _Baratheon_?” Edric cried, causing a nearby table to glance over at them. Gendry nodded. “Of course, right. What other Stannis could you have meant? Seven hells.” Edric shook his head in disbelief as he remembered that the Prime Minister of Westeros was suddenly his close relative. 

“I know two of them are girls - Mya and Bella. We know Mya was born in the Vale, but we don’t have a current address or phone number. Bella’s moved around a lot, so she’s been sort of hard to track down, too - the last address we have for her was in King’s Landing, but she seems to have disappeared. Then there are a set of twins in Lannisport, but we don’t have first names, and their last name is “Hill”, which is pretty common - so that’s a bit of a deadend for now.” Edric let out a low breath. Gendry figured he may as well tell Edric everything he knew. “The reason he knows they exist is cause they reached out to him - or their mothers did, anyway.” Edric’s face grew stony and his eyes narrowed in anger and Gendry almost laughed - now it really did feel as though he was looking in a mirror. 

“So they told him that he had fathered their children and -,” 

“Yeah, he basically threatened them with libel lawsuits if they said any more,” Gendry said miserably, “and of course none of them could afford to go through the legal process.” Edric’s hand flinched and he set the envelope down on the table. For a moment, Gendry thought he was going to tear it in two. 

“Fuck,” Edric spat, “Fuck him.” Gendry couldn’t help but chuckle as he raised his water glass to Edric’s words. It was nice to no longer be alone in his anger. 

“When I find them would you like me to tell you?” He asked. “If they’re comfortable with it, I can put us all in touch properly.” Edric’s smile returned to his face. 

“That’d be awesome,” he beamed, “We could have, like, a family group chat.” Gendry thought of the absolute nonsense that was exchanged in the Stark siblings’ group chat, which Arya often shared with him (she did have to explain some of the memes to him, but generally it was quite funny). He smiled at Edric’s suggestion. 

-

The health stuff didn’t come as a shock to Edric. He took it in stride, taking note of the tests Gendry had taken, of the symptoms to watch out for, of all of the lifestyle changes he might need to make. He already practiced meditation daily, which didn’t surprise Gendry one bit. 

“Do I have to stop smoking weed?” Edric said glumly, “Or is this one of those things where weed, like, helps?” Gendry shrugged, never having considered this. 

“Er… maybe speak with your doctor about that one,” he said. 

-

Edric asked for Gendry’s mailing address “for Christmas cards!” and insisted that they take a photo together “for my mum - she thinks this is all rather fun, I think”. 

-

“It’s weird, y’know, my friend follows you on Instagram because he’s got a thing for.. uh,”

“Arya,” Gendry finished with his eyebrows raised as they thanked the hostess and left. 

“Yeah, basically,” Edric laughed sheepishly. “But he always said I looked just like you, and I’d just roll my eyes at him. Turns out he was onto something.” Gendry laughed, deciding not to let on that he didn’t actually run the Instagram account in question. 

-

Gendry shook Edric’s hand as they parted, promising to keep him posted on their sisters and the twins out west. Edric kept a hold of Gendry’s hand and pulled him into a hug, promising to give him a shout any time he was in Westeros and telling him that if he was ever in Lys, there was a couch for him to crash on.

-

Gendry arrived home to find Arya’s notes still spread across the kitchen and her hunched over her laptop. He noticed that there was a bar of his favourite chocolate - the type with the crunchy toffee inside - on the counter. She closed her computer and stood to greet him as soon as he shut the door. 

“No need to look so nervous,” he laughed, “He was great.” Arya beamed. 

“Oh, thank the gods,” she said, “When you played his voicemail for me, a part of me was worried you were about to go meet some bizarre combination of Rickon and Theon, no offence to either of them.” Gendry laughed and hung his coat up. 

“I guess leaving shitty voicemails runs in the family,” he said before glancing at the chocolate again. “If I pretend it sucked can I eat the chocolate?” Gendry asked, earning himself an eyeroll. “How’s your work coming along?” She sighed and slumped her shoulders slightly. 

“I have some good material to go over on Monday, but it’s just… it’s hard not to get angry sometimes, you know?” He nodded and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear before moving his fingers to tilt her chin up. She rested her head into his hand and exhaled calmly. 

“It’s good that you’re angry,” he said. He knew it was hard work, thankless and miserable and disheartening work, but he also knew that she was meant to be doing it, that she cared too much about this sort of work to do anything else. “I wouldn’t want to try to win a case against an angry Arya. You’re terrifying.” She laughed and pulled her body against his, leaning her head into his chest. 

“I think I’ve done enough work today. Wanna go to that bougie taco place and tell me all about your baby brother over some overpriced salsa?”

(They did get tacos, but they took out instead of eating in - Sansa called to tell Arya that she and Dickon had officially ended things and that she was fine, really, but could use some company. Sansa ate six tacos and wistfully described every girl she had ever had a crush on in detail.)

-

It was strange to go back to work the next Monday. In many ways, Gendry appreciated the fact that no one in the office talked to him much. Some seemed to look down on him, others surely thought he was just the rich, spoiled son of a Prime Minister they didn’t vote for. But if someone _had_ asked him how his weekend had gone, it would have been rather fun to say that he had grabbed lunch with his brother. 

No one did ask, though, so he carried on working on his proposal for a recreational youth center on Gin Alley that his boss had encouraged him to draw up for the board of investors. 

-

When Flea Bottom F.C. won their first game of the season, Gendry received a congratulatory text from Edric (complete with balloon emojis). He grinned at his phone. 

“What are you smiling about?” Arya had asked from the other end of the couch, raising an eyebrow. 

“My brother texted me!” He beamed. 

-

Mya Stone was a hard person to track down. According to the folder Gendry had been given, she and her mother had reached out to Robert a little under a decade ago, when Mya was a teenager. Her mother had been sick and could no longer work, and Mya’s hopes of paying for college were rapidly disappearing as they struggled to pay their medical bills and their rent. 

Robert’s response had been to cease and desist all contact or face a defamation lawsuit. The reasoning Robert’s camp gave Gendry was that if Robert had humoured the girl and her mother and given them money, he would have to do the same for any person who claimed to be a relative. 

Gendry had gone to his local gym and beat the shit out of a punching bag for a few hours the day he had learned all of this. 

The private investigators hired by the Prime Minister knew that Mya Stone had graduated from secondary school in the Vale over a decade ago, that she had briefly seen a therapist, and that her mother had died a year ago. Any phone number connected to her name got them nowhere, and they couldn’t find her in any address books. 

That she was the sibling they had the most information about aside from Edric was growing more and more frustrating.

-

Sansa had taken a trip up to the Eyrie to visit a friend from college, Myranda, and to get out of the city for a week.

“You need a vacation, too,” Gendry said to Arya when she had told him how she thought some time away from King’s Landing would do her sister good. Arya was working hard and sleeping less and Gendry wanted to see the tension she held in her posture dissipate. He ran his thumbs along the tops of her shoulders and kneaded downward, happy to hear her calmly exhale as she relaxed into his touch. 

“We didn’t get up to Winterfell this summer,” she said longingly. They had gone the previous summers, spending a week or two at the Stark family estate up north, reacquainting themselves with the manor grounds and the rustic stables and the patch of grass under the oak tree by the river. “I miss it there.” 

“We’ll be there for Christmas,” Gendry said, “And we’ll go back next summer. You still have to teach me the rules of croquet.” She laughed and leaned into his chest, pulling his arms down so that they wrapped around her waist. 

He made them curry while she napped, making sure to leave the coriander garnish off of her plate. Arya Stark didn’t have many flaws in Gendry’s eyes, but she hated coriander, and that was very nearly a dealbreaker. Gendry had tried to sneak some into a salad dressing once - to convince her that it was actually delicious - but she had caught him out, retched dramatically and declared him a traitor.

She appreciated the warm dinner tonight, though, and thanked him with a quick kiss before insisting he go brush his teeth so that she could kiss him properly without tasting coriander on his lips.

-

Gendry enlisted Bran to help him trawl Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, MySpace, and every other corner of the internet for anyone named Mya Stone. They got their hopes up a few times, but found no profiles that featured images of Robert Baratheon’s black hair and blue eyes. 

Google turned up an endless parade of useless leads and Gendry was ready to give up when Bran made a noise of excitement. 

“I think I’ve found a photo!” He said. “Look.” Gendry scrambled back to Bran’s side to look at his laptop screen. It was a group photo, a few years old. It showed a handful of students posing in front of a rockface. _South Eyrie Secondary School Rock Climbing Club. L-R: Mychel Redfort, Eddison Tollett, Mya Stone, Eustace Hunter._ The singular girl was tall, with long legs and black hair pulled aside in a low plait. She had her arms crossed and was scowling at the camera. It was a familiar scowl. Gendry had seen it on his own face - in mirrors, in photographs, reflected in the window of Stannis Baratheon’s office - many times. “I don’t think it helps us find her or anything, but that’s her right?” Bran asked. Gendry nodded. 

They spent the next hour searching for more crumbs of Mya’s life online, wishing there was more extensive coverage of high school rock climbers and lamenting the fact that Mychel Redfort’s Instagram account was private. They found nothing of any use. Gendry showed Arya the photo when she came home. 

“Oh gosh,” she gasped, “She totally has your frown, Gendry.” He nodded silently and she patted his arm lightly. “We’ll track her down.” 

-

Arya went to work and did her best to keep Gendry’s spirits up. Gendry went to work and did his best to force Arya into giving herself a break every now and then. 

They planned their Halloween costumes (Theon’s theme this year was “The Divine” and Arya was rather enthusiastic about the costume she had picked out for Gendry). 

Bran sent them a link to an explicit film starring a blonde woman named “Mia Rhinestone” and jokingly asked if it was any help. 

Edric sent Gendry an excited text to announce that he was still allowed to smoke weed. 

Sansa posted photos of her nights out with Myranda and friends - she looked happy. 

-

“How was work?” Gendry asked as Arya climbed into bed during the earliest hours of Friday morning. She had arrived home just before midnight, her eyes tired and her face drawn as she had inhaled the leftovers from dinner and come to join him in their bedroom. She was wearing an old shirt of his as a nightgown and she gave him a brief, small smile as she lay down and faced him. 

“It was long,” she sighed, “but we’re building a solid case, I think.” She glanced down and bit her lip. “I cried again today.” Gendry frowned and gently reached out to touch her face. He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“Hey, the stuff you’re dealing with his heavy. It makes sense to feel angry or frustrated or -,” he paused when she placed her hand over his and kissed his wrist. 

“Jaqen is teaching me how to control my emotions,” she said. Gendry furrowed his brow. Before he could say anything, though, Arya seemed to know what he was thinking. “I know that feelings are good and that being angry means I care and all that, but I _have_ to learn how to not break in the middle of an argument. I have to.” Gendry sighed and nodded. He supposed that much was fair. 

“Show me,” he suggested, and Arya smiled before shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, they were oddly blank. The stormy, playful grey eyes that he was used to had become stoic and eerily placid. Her face was held in neutral, her lips like some sort of carefully and beautifully carved marble statue. Her eyebrows - usually so expressive - contributed no hints towards her thoughts. After a few seconds, she broke and laughed. 

“It’s harder when I’m looking at you,” she giggled, “You’re cute when you’re freaked out.” 

“That was weird,” he admitted, “but if it helps you, that’s awesome. How do you do it?” 

“It’s easier to start with nice thoughts. Think of something that makes you happy,” she instructed. He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her. “Now try to draw your positive feelings inward, as if you want to keep them protected from the outside world. Pretend they’re like oxygen and you need to fill your lungs with them. As you inhale, you’re supposed to pull anything emotion-based from your face and your mind down into your chest and hold it there until you’re ready to let it go again.” Gendry did his best to breathe his feelings for Arya inwards. He only smiled. 

“Sorry,” he laughed, “Lemme try again.” 

By his sixth attempt, he gave up on trying not to smile at Arya. “For someone with a resting ‘fuck off’ face, you’re having a lot of trouble getting rid of that stupid grin,” she laughed. “What are you thinking about that’s so hard to put aside?” He frowned at her. 

“You.” Hadn’t that been obvious? 

“Smooth,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Gendry would have protested her derision and insisted that he was indeed thinking about her, but her lips had already found his and he decided that protesting was the furthest thing from his mind now. 

Gendry shifted to lay above her, a hand moving under her shirt, his thumb running delicately along her abdomen. He traced his fingers upwards, pausing briefly to touch the ribs that had healed ages ago. Arya sighed against his lips and he smiled at the contentment in the sound. She had been working too hard, building too much tension in her muscles - her whole body now seemed to be unwinding underneath his touch. He kissed her fiercely and began to move the old t-shirt up her torso. 

_Bzzzzzt_.

“Ignore it,” she breathed, pulling Gendry’s face back to hers, “It’s probably work and this is far more important than work.”

_Bzzzzzt_. He smiled and kissed her again, ignoring her vibrating phone on the bedside table. 

_Bzzzzzt_.

_Bzzzzzt_.

_Bzzzzzt_.

The buzzing stopped and Gendry’s hands moved back underneath Arya’s shirt. She let out a happy little gasp and he moved to bring his lips to her neck. His own phone screen lighting up gave him pause. Gendry pulled away to crane his neck at his screen.

“Sansa’s calling me?” He asked, as if Arya would know why this might be happening. 

“What?” Arya said, “Why?” He reached over to his side of the bed and picked up his phone. 

“Sansa?” 

“Gendry!” She spoke loudly - there was music and loud chatter carrying on in the background, “Arya didn’t pick up - I need you guys to come up here. I found her.” 

“What? You found who?” Gendry asked. As he met Arya’s eyes, though, both pairs widened with realization. 

“Mya,” Sansa said, “I found Mya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I headcanon Edric as a chill bro who loves a grabbing beer with the boys and smoking joints and talking about sunsets, but that's just who he is for me!
> 
> Also, Arya Stark cries! She's an emotional angel! 
> 
> Thank you for all of your nice words thus far. I'm only about half-done chapter 5, so I really shouldn't be posting this one yet, but ah well. xx


	5. Mya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my personal favourite baratheon sibling :*

The train ride up to the Vale was dark and wet. Gendry watched the raindrops slide along the window pane as the train car raced north and evening began to fall. It was Friday evening now, the day before Halloween. They had boarded the first train they could catch after they had both extracted themselves from work. 

“Shame we won’t get to wear our costumes,” Gendry said, breaking the comfortable silence that had lingered between himself and Arya for the past half hour. 

In reality, Gendry was of two minds about his now-abandoned Halloween costume. He and Arya had planned on attending Theon’s religion-themed soirée as a Silent Sister and a Septon. On one hand, he found the high-collared suit sort of uncomfortable and he thought that the weird little white bit that went at the neck made him look ridiculous. On the other hand, Arya did _not_ think that the costume was ridiculous. In fact, she seemed to find it quite dashing. 

Arya smirked at him as he spoke and her eyes lingered briefly on his neck before she shrugged. “Oh, I’m certain that we’ll find uses for them.” Gendry gave her a look of exasperation and Arya only wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Stop it,” he hissed.

“Yes, Father,” she said innocently, batting her eyelashes. He felt his neck heat up and he lightly poked at her shin with his boot. 

“We’re in public,” he said quietly, though he couldn’t help but smile as her look of determined brazenness melted into one of mock-shame. 

“Forgive me, Gendry, for I have sin-,”

“Arya!” She exploded into a fit of giggles as he chastised her and he couldn’t help but join in her laughter. She _was_ being rather unfair, though, talking to him like that while the elderly couple across the corridor were trying to focus on their sudoku puzzles. 

-

“_Now approaching Eyrie South Station. Please remain seated until the train has come to a complete stop. If you are departing, please be sure to take all of your belongings with you. Thank you for travelling with WRL._” 

He was nervous. This was stupid. They couldn’t even be sure that it was her. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Arya said, glancing up at his face, “She’s your sister and you’re bringing her a cheque worth more money than any person could ever need. She’ll love you.” Arya held his hand as they stepped onto the platform, searching for Sansa’s red hair in the crowd. 

-

“Right, so,” Sansa said, “We’ll drop your stuff off at the hotel, let you both freshen up, and then we’ll go to the bar.” 

Apparently, Mya Stone worked as a bartender. Sansa had been ordering her friends a round of gin and tonic at the Sturdy Mule the previous evening when she found herself looking into a pair of shockingly blue eyes, impeded slightly by a strand of raven black hair. 

“Her eyes are different than yours, Gendry - they’re more... catlike - but the same blue,” Sansa explained as they flagged down a taxi. She described Mya in detail - hair cut sharply just below her chin, one arm covered shoulder-to-wrist in tattoos, a piercing on the brow above her left eye. “I noticed her nametag and gave her another look-over and thought ‘Oh gosh, it has to be her!’ so I asked if she was working tomorrow evening - today - and she said yes! And I know that interrupting her shift at work isn’t exactly _ideal_ but it’s all that I could think of, short of asking her where she lived, which obviously would have been quite inappropriate. She also offered me a cigarette, but I figured I would let you lecture her on why that’s no longer allowed.” 

“And you’re sure it’s her?” Gendry asked weakly. His hand was tapping against his knee anxiously. 

“Positive,” Sansa said simply, “I asked if she was from around here, and she said she’s lived in the Vale all her life. Then I casually commented on how her parents chose a beautiful place to live and she told me it was just her and her mum growing up. It must be her.” She smiled with pride at her detective skills. Gendry swallowed. He was going to meet his sister.

-

The bar was busy. It was Friday night and the weekend of Halloween, which meant that a large percentage of the crowd was in costume. Gendry saw one bloke whose drawn-on frown and signature all-black three-piece suit made for a rather good Stannis Baratheon costume. 

Gendry glanced at the bar and froze. Her arms looked strong as they leaned against the counter, and one was indeed covered in an assortment of tattoos. Her short, straight hair fell in her face as she nodded at the customer she was helping. She was wearing a black tank top and heavy eye-makeup. Gendry’s first thought was that she wouldn’t look out of place on stage at one of the punk rock concerts Arya and Shireen liked to check out every now and then. Mya scowled as the customer took their drink without a tip or a “thank you”. 

“Oh, she’s definitely related to you,” Arya laughed as Mya slammed the cash register shut. Sansa grinned. 

“Come on,” she said, squeezing between a superhero and a cowboy and leading them towards the bar and towards his sister.

-

Mya smiled when she saw Sansa. “Hey,” she said, lifting her chin in greeting, “You’re back.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and grabbed a glass. “G&T, right?” She scooped a handful of ice cubes into the glass. 

“I am,” Sansa beamed, “And I’ve brought -,” But Sansa’s words stopped when she saw the look of loathing on Mya’s face. Gendry wasn’t sure that anyone - even Catelyn Stark at her worst - had ever looked less happy to see him. 

“Fuck no,” Mya said. “Get out of my bar.” Gendry blinked at her. 

“I…,” was all he could manage, not sure what exactly was going on. Mya tore her furious eyes away from his to face Sansa. 

“You’re here with him?” She asked weakly. “You… that’s why you asked me if I was working tonight, yeah?” Sansa bit her lip nervously and Mya let out a breath of disbelieving laughter. “Cool. Get him the fuck out of my bar.” 

“Mya,” Arya started, and Gendry’s sister blinked at her, as if she had only just noticed the shorter Stark sister “Gendry’s just here to -,” 

“Ah, right. The girlfriend. Figures he’d have you along on his arm,” Mya snorted. Arya did not take kindly to being called ‘the girlfriend’, and Gendry could tell she was a breath away from snapping at Mya. The last thing he wanted was a scene. 

Before he could move to put his hands on Arya’s shoulders, though, a hand landed on his own. He turned to see a frowning man’s face looking up at him. “This guy bothering you, Mya?” He asked, and Arya scoffed as she turned and sized the bouncer up. 

“Gendry’s done nothing wrong,” Arya spat, her hands on her hips and her eyes flashing with anger. 

“Just take them outside, Red,” Mya said. Gendry turned back to her, searching her face for some explanation. 

“Mya, what -,” he started, but she had turned to help a customer, determinedly not looking at him. The bouncer tugged at his arm and Gendry shook his head and followed him towards the exit, taking Arya’s hand so that she would follow suit. “Come on, Sansa.” Sansa, like Arya, was still staring at Mya, though her expression was less offended and more confused. 

The bouncer shut the door after them, leaving them all huddled under the awning, the rain falling heavily on the sidewalk beside them. 

-

Gendry wanted to go back to the hotel. He wanted to shower and fall into the freshly laundered sheets with chocolates on the pillows and forget that he had ever tried to introduce himself to Mya Stone. What was her problem? What on earth had he done to make her hate him so much?

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said after a moment, “I thought - she seemed so nice yesterday and I figured she’d be happy to meet her brother. I supposed I should have warned her or asked her if -,”

“Stop it, Sansa,” Arya said sharply, “You found her and that’s enough. You’ve done nothing wrong.” She looked up at Gendry and studied his face for a moment. “I’m sorry, Gendry.” He shook his head at her. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said, squeezing the hand that she had tucked into his. “Yours either, Sansa.” Arya made an odd face. 

“No, I’m not apologizing for your sister being a bitch,” she said, “I’m apologizing because I know you want to go and tuck yourself into bed and forget this ever happened and it’s not happening.”

“What? Arya, she kicked out of her bar,” Gendry grumbled. “I’m not going back in there.”

“No, but Sansa said she’s a smoker. She’ll be out here before long.” 

-

The side doors did not have an awning. Sansa had brought an umbrella, which kept her and Arya dry. They had tried to hold it over Gendry, too, but if Sansa held the umbrella high enough to cover his head, Arya was left exposed to the rain. He had insisted that he was fine in only his leather jacket, but Gendry was utterly drenched by the time the side door opened and Mya walked out with a cigarette between her lips and a lighter halfway to her mouth. 

“Oh, piss off,” she said, the words a little muffled by the stick between her lips. She removed the cigarette and scowled at Gendry. “I asked you to leave.” 

“No you didn’t,” Arya cut in angrily, “You told him to fuck off.” Mya raised her eyebrows at Arya before shrugging. 

“Same difference,” she said. Gendry looked at her carefully. Her face was cold, her eyes unwaveringly hostile. It was as though she was looking at the man who let her down all those years ago, rather than the one who had spent hours scrolling through Facebook groups dedicated to rock climbing in the Mountains of the Moon, searching for any trace of his sister. 

“What’s your problem with me?” he asked after a beat, trying and failing to not sound annoyed. What had he done wrong?

“_My_ problem?” Mya scoffed, “You’re the one who flounced into my place of work totally unannounced after sending Ginger in to check me out first.” Mya nodded her head towards Sansa as she spoke, but her eyes didn’t leave his own. 

“I didn’t _send Sansa in_,” Gendry said, “Her finding you was a total fluke, she called me last night and I came as soon as I could.” Mya narrowed her eyes at him as she inhaled and lit her cigarette.

“Yeah?” She asked after she blew a cloud of smoke into the rainy night. “Found a free evening in your social calendar to pop up and see your sister?” Gendry frowned at her tone. 

“He’s actually missing a Halloween party for this,” Sansa said defiantly. Gendry winced as Mya let out a bark of laughter. 

“How tragic,” she said, offering Gendry a look of mock sympathy, “I hope you recover.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I just want to talk to you - to meet you.” He forced himself to keep his voice level. Mya’s eyes didn’t leave his, but they grew icier at his words. She turned away briefly to exhale another drag of her cigarette before facing him again.

“You ever consider that I have absolutely no interest in meeting you?” 

The words stung. Of course he had considered that. Far too many of his thoughts these days were consumed by the possibility that these siblings he suddenly knew about would want nothing to do with him. It made sense that not all of them would be eager to meet their estranged brother when the only thing they had in common was an absent drunkard of a father. 

“Fine,” Gendry said. He pulled the envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to her roughly . Mya blinked at him as she took the paper and he turned, tugging Arya along with him.

“I don’t want your money, you asshole,” Mya called after him. He didn’t bother looking back at her. 

-

Gendry had learned to always prepare for the worst. It wasn’t that he was a pessimist, per se, but he knew that life didn’t always work out the way you hoped it might. When his mother got sick, she didn’t pretend that things would get better. She was gentle with her words when she explained what was happening, but she had also been honest. He had prepared for the worst and when it came, he was ready for it (it had hurt, though - quite a lot). 

When the social service lady had insisted that _this_ foster home could be his forever home, he never got his hopes up. He had been right to do so.

When his teachers had told him that he was smart enough to get a scholarship, Gendry had ignored them. He got the grades he needed to get into the school that he wanted to attend and he worked after school to fund his way through university. He had ended up accepting a rather flattering scholarship, but that was besides the point - he had been prepared to get nothing, and that was the smart thing to do.

When you prepared for the worst, you never got let down. Relying on hopes and dreams and notions of happy endings was stupid. 

But then Arya Stark had walked into his life, glittering in the afternoon sun, shattering every notion he'd ever had about the universe being cruel (only to immediately reinforce those notions - how was he expected to see her every day all summer and not go mad with longing?)

Gendry had done his best not to want Arya Stark, because wanting someone you can’t have was stupid. He had tried to avoid her, tried his best not to notice her untie her swimming costume to tan by the pool, done everything in his power not to catch her eye as she swanned by him in her little shorts and sundresses. He had resisted temptation, even when faced with a rain-soaked goddess practically begging him to make a move. She was Arya Stark and she was the acting lady of the manor all summer and she was - in every single way - out of his reach. 

Despite his reluctance to hope, though, Arya Stark had dragged him to the top of a mountain and let him kiss her for hours and hours. 

When he had finally given in to Arya Stark, he had known it wouldn’t last. He had been ready with an excuse to end it: it was only a summer fling, she’s got her real life to get back to - a life of yachts and fancy parties and dinners with way too many forks for Gendry to even think about. Girls like Arya might sleep with guys like Gendry, but they didn’t _stay with_ guys like Gendry. 

Only, Arya did stay with Gendry. And he never wanted it any other way. 

Dating Arya Stark had ruined him. He had become a sickening optimist who felt lucky just to wake up in the morning with his arms around her. It was as if his actual personality had been replaced by some sunshine-filled idiot who, even at his worst moments, even at his mother’s grave and at his father’s funeral, felt sure that there were so many good days ahead. 

So yes, he had worried that his siblings wouldn’t want him, but he hadn’t properly prepared for it. He was out of practice when it came to preparing for the worst. It hurt far more than he expected it to. 

When he had read through Mya’s file, she had felt like his sister. He had felt her anger, understood what must have been going through her head as she watched her mother’s health deteriorate, wishing desperately for help in any form. More than Edric or Bella or the twins, Mya Stone had felt familiar to him. And she hated him. 

“Gendry.” 

He was aware that Arya was still holding his hand, but he had no idea how far they’d walked. They were both completely soaked now. Arya’s hair was sticking to her face and her eyes were trained on him, her brows knit together with worry.

“Sorry,” he said. “We can go back to the hotel now.” He looked around, no idea what direction they should head in. Arya frowned at him and stepped closer, slinking her arms inside his jacket and wrapping them around his waist. Her sleeves were wet but he didn’t care. He pulled her closer and took a breath. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology and e told her it was okay. It wasn’t her fault and it didn’t feel okay, but hugging Arya helped (even though the water from her sleeves had soaked the bottom half of his shirt and caused him to shiver slightly). 

“We have to go back,” Arya said, pulling away from him and looking both amused and uncomfortable. “We forgot Sansa.” 

-

“Can’t we just call Sansa and meet her at the hotel?”

“I’ll call her, but we’re still going back to the bar. We’re not stepping foot in that hotel until you’ve got a sister. If it comes to it, I’ll marry you tonight so that we can call Sansa your sister. You’re not getting out of this trip without one.” 

“You’d marry me tonight?”

“Duh.” 

That option didn’t sound so bad, really. He let her drag him back towards the Sturdy Mule.

-

On their third attempt at ringing Sansa, she picked up. 

“Thank the Gods, where are you?” Arya demanded. “What? No, we’re _outside_ the bar.” She rolled her eyes at Gendry. “The bouncer already kicked us out, we can’t just walk back in.” Arya listened to Sansa’s response and checked her watch. “That’s not for another hour, Sansa.” A sigh. “You’re sure?” A pause. “Great.” Arya hung up and gave Gendry a smile. “We’re going back in.” 

-

Mya was back at the bar, but Sansa waved them over to a booth. The bouncer nodded at them and they carried on towards Arya’s sister. 

“Gosh, you’re both soaked. Gendry, take that jacket off, you’re going to catch a chill.” Gendry and Arya both shrugged their jackets off and slid in across from Sansa. He appreciated that Sansa had chosen the side that faced the bar so that there was little risk of him catching Mya’s eye. 

“So what’d you do?” Arya asked, “Flirt your way back into her good books?” Sansa’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed pink. 

“Arya! What - no! _Flirt_? That’s ridiculous,” she spluttered, “I told her off, actually.” Arya and Gendry exchanged a look of surprise before looking expectantly at Sansa. “I told her that there was no need to be so harsh, and that Gendry had spent months searching for her and hadn’t wasted a minute in coming up to find her. She had tried to say that she had no interest in talking, and I told her that was rather stupid, considering he’s one of the loveliest people I know.” Arya smiled at that. “I told her that she had the money now and it was up to her if she wanted the brother that came along with it. She said her shift was done at midnight and she let me back in through the side door.” 

“What does that mean?” Gendry asked. It didn’t sound wholly positive. 

“It means that she’s willing to talk,” Arya said. 

-

Five minutes after midnight, Mya arrived at their table. She didn’t sit down, instead opting to stand, ready to leave at a moment’s notice - her jacket was zipped up and her arms were crossed defensively. 

Sansa broke the silence. “When does this place close?”

“Three,” Mya said bluntly. Sansa slid over and patted the seat beside her. 

“That gives us loads of time!” Sansa said cheerily. Gendry gave Sansa a tired look and Arya snorted beside him. Everyone looked at her. 

“Sorry,” she said, “You two just… you gave her the same face.” She bit her lip and looked away. Mya turned to Gendry, who took a deep breath. He knew what she needed to hear.

“Mya, I’m sorry. About everything, everything that’s happened. Robert -,” The name seemed to reignite the fury in her eyes from their earlier interaction. 

“‘Robert’,” she laughed, “Surprised you don’t call him ‘Daddy’. What about _Robert_? Enlighten me.” It was a little frightening, how familiar the fury etched into her features was. For some reason, it seemed to help him stay calm - he knew the anger in Mya’s eyes and so he could reason with it. It had sat in his chest for years, in so many different forms. 

“Robert was a prick who killed your mum,” he said, and Mya’s harsh face fell into one of devastated shock before she quickly recovered and frowned at him. Sansa sucked in a breath and Arya shifted awkwardly beside him. 

It was true. When he had learned about his true parentage, the first thing Gendry had felt was anger, closely followed by a deep, harrowing wave of grief. His mother hadn’t been able to afford to be sick. She had put her money into keeping food on the table and keeping the lights on in their damp little flat in Flea Bottom. 

Gendry wasn’t sure that any amount of money could have kept her alive for long, but it would have made it all less painful for her. She could have tried out treatments and she could have fallen asleep at night knowing that her son would be looked after when she was gone. She would have lived a little longer and a little happier, and that would have meant the world to Gendry. 

Robert had never known that she was sick, though. He hadn’t known that Gendry even existed until Arya had accidentally brought father and son together. 

Robert had known about Mya’s mum. Gendry had seen the notes, the documentation of their correspondence - a girl asking her father for help, a lawyer warning her to cease and desist. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” Mya breathed after a moment, her voice shaking slightly. “You don’t know -,”

“He does,” Arya said earnestly, “His mother’s dead, too. Sooner than she needed to be.” She slipped her hand into Gendry’s and he squeezed it. He remembered the first time he had talked to Arya about all of this, standing over his mother’s grave as Arya swapped out some old, drooping flowers for new ones. “Robert was no help.” Mya’s eyes flickered warily between them.

“But you knew him,” she said, “He invited you to all of his parties and he was willing to be seen with you and -,” 

“Arya invited me to those parties, Mya. I was there as her date. Arya didn’t give him the option of not being seen with me.” They looked at each other for a moment. Mya’s eyes were still cold.

“And you hated every minute of it, yeah?” She bit, “You were forced into those expensive suits? Dragged into those ballrooms to drink champagne with the bloody Prime Minister?” 

“Yeah, actually,” Arya said defensively. “He sucks at it.” Gendry frowned at her and she shrugged. “It’s been years and you still can only get through three handshakes before you ask me when we’re allowed to go home.” Mya let out a little sniff of laughter before regaining her composure, her face stony once again. 

“Gendry didn’t see a penny of the Baratheon fortune until after your father died, Mya,” Sansa said. Mya looked at her and then at Arya and then, finally, at Gendry. Her eyes were different now - resigned and confused and still angry, but softer.

“I need a drink.” 

“Oh, actually you’re not supposed to dri -,” but Gendry waved Sansa off. They could get into the serious stuff later. He wanted to have a beer with his angry, confused sister. 

-

It was Arya’s idea to play the game. One person had to make an assumption about another. If it their assumption was right, their target had to drink. If the assumption was wrong, the speaker had to drink. “How else are we going to get to know each other?” she shrugged as she poured them each a glass from the pitcher Mya has summoned from the bar. Sansa made a face - she wasn’t usually a beer drinker. 

“Alright,” Mya said, looking determinedly at Gendry. “Gendry, you’ve never been to the Vale before tonight.” Gendry drank. 

“Mya, you love coriander.” Mya gave him a funny look before drinking. 

“Sansa, you own more than fifteen pairs of heels,” Mya suggested, and Sansa sighed before taking a tiny sip of her beer and wincing. 

“Arya, you were faking sick when you said you couldn’t come to Jeyne Poole’s birthday last month.” Arya gave her sister a guilty look before drinking. 

“Mya, you’ve punched someone in this bar,” Arya offered. Mya smiled as she drank. 

“Arya, you’ve broken at least three bones.” Arya drank.

“Gendry, you’re a…. Taurus?” Gendry looked to the Stark sisters for confirmation and drank when they both nodded. 

“Arya, you’ve got a nipple piercing.” Mya had to drink for that assumption. 

“Sansa, you’ve already finished your Christmas shopping.” Sansa insisted that she hadn’t got anything for Rickon yet, so Arya was forced to drink. 

As they carried on, the questions became more and more personal and the order of questions grew more and more random.

“Sansa, Pod was the best you’ve ever had.” Sansa drank glumly at Arya’s correct assessment of her sex life. She studied Arya carefully before volleying back an assumption of her own.

“Arya, sometimes Gendry ties you up in bed and you _love_ it.” Gendry felt his cheeks heat up and Arya gaped at her sister before taking a sip. 

“I knew it!” The elder Stark sister cried, “I knew it.” The bar was nearly empty now, and a few people looked over at Sansa’s cheers. 

When Arya had broken her ribs, they had been tasked with finding an effective way of making her stay still when they had sex. It turned out to be rather fun, so they occasionally carried on with it - even though Arya’s midsection now had a perfect range of motion. Sansa looked between them before grinning. 

“Gendry, sometimes you’re the one who gets tied up,” Sansa said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s not your turn!” Arya protested as Gendry quietly took a drink. Mya looked at the three of them, amused and awaiting whatever personal assumption Arya would shoot back at her sister.

“Mya, you’ve slept with the bouncer.” Arya smiled as she asked it, and Mya’s jaw dropped - she clearly hadn’t expected to be the next target. She recovered quickly, though, returning Arya’s smile and drinking.

“First and only boy I’ve ever fucked,” she said. “Mychel’s great, really. Helped me realize how very gay I am.” Gendry half expected Mya to look at him as she said this, perhaps to confirm that he wasn’t going to judge her for it. Instead, she glanced very briefly in Sansa’s direction before looking down at the table, tapping her hand as she thought up another question to ask.

“Gendry! You’ve never kissed a boy,” his sister offered.

“Drink!” He laughed. Arya grinned and Sansa and Mya both looked at him, shocked. 

“Oh, Arya, he is a gem,” Sansa said gleefully. “Where did you find him? Gendry, when was this?” 

“Back in uni,” Gendry shrugged, “Some pricks at the bar called my friend a… bad name. So I put my arm around him and asked if they had a problem with my boyfriend. Only they didn’t believe I was gay so we had to, uh, ‘prove’ it.” 

Sansa squealed and clapped her hands and Mya threw her head back laughing. 

“Alright,” Arya said, “on that note - Sansa, you’ve never kissed a girl without a man asking you to do it.” 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at her sister and drank. 

“What?” Gendry asked, “Seriously?” 

“I mean,” Sansa started, “I did once kiss a girl when Trys was asleep, but he had suggested we keep making out as he dozed off, so...” 

“You’ve never kissed a girl just to kiss her?” Mya asked, and Sansa shook her head. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Arya seemed to know what was about to happen before Gendry did (in his defence, he was properly drunk for the first time in _months_ and his brain was not at its sharpest). Arya grabbed his thigh under the table and Gendry was about to ask her what she was doing when he saw her eyes grow wide and he looked over at their sisters. 

Mya cupped Sansa’s face and Sansa’s lips parted slightly, as though she couldn’t believe what was happening. “Cool?” Mya asked, and Sansa nodded silently, her eyes darting down to Mya’s lips briefly. The kiss was quick, a peck that lingered on for a moment, allowing for a brief second brush of their lips against each other. Arya covered her mouth with her hand, looking equal parts amused and shocked. Mya pulled away with a friendly smile.

“Now you can say you’ve kissed a girl just for the sake of it, no men involved.” She raised her glass to Sansa, who was staring at her, starry-eyed and speechless. “You’re a good kisser.” Sansa nodded in thank you and then took a long, deep drink from her glass as Arya hastily spat out an assumption about Mya’s familiarity with martial arts. 

-

They were kicked out by Mya’s boss, who said that they were only allowed to stick around past three o’clock if they were going to help with the dishwashing. 

They stumbled onto the street to find that it was still raining. “Is anyone else absolutely starving?” Mya asked. They all nodded.

Arya looked up at Gendry with her widest, most hopeful eyes and asked him to give her a piggyback. He rolled his eyes at her unnecessary pleading. He hoisted her up onto his back and she held his jacket above them both, almost succeeding in keeping them dry. This left Sansa and Mya huddled together under Sansa’s umbrella.

-

Mya was drunk, holding a cigarette in one hand and the remains of her french fries in the other. Gendry laughed out loud at the sight of her leaning against the outside of the restaurant. 

“What?” she asked. 

“I was supposed to tell you not to smoke,” he said, “And we’re not supposed to each much fried food or drink heavily. Robert had some serious health issues.” Mya grinned back at him as Sansa and Arya exited and joined them. 

“Left us nothing but a low life expectancy, then?” she snorted. “Classic.” 

“Mya, shush, no!” Arya scowled, stumbling into Gendry’s side, and holding onto him tightly “Don’t say that. Gendry’s not allowed to die before me. I’d kill him if he did.” Gendry decided to ignore the lack of logic put into her death threat and kissed the top of Arya’s head. 

“Robert did actually leave us more than bad hearts,” he reminded Mya. “That envelope is, uh, worth holding onto.” She nodded, placing her hand on her purse. 

“Walk me home?” she asked. Gendry nodded. They had a lot more to talk about.

-

“They’ll get back okay without you to look after them, yeah?” Mya said, glancing over her shoulder at the Stark sisters hailing a cab.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Gendry said. “Arya’s the one who does more of the looking after, anyway.” Mya let out a light laugh. 

“She looked about ready to rip my throat out when we first spoke,” she looked up at him. “She loves you, you know.” Gendry snorted. 

“Yeah, I know, Mya. I love her, too.” 

“Sansa’s also very fond of you,” she said, “Arya’s cool with that?” Gendry frowned and looked at his sister. 

“Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she want her sister to like her boyfriend?” Mya raised her pierced eyebrow skeptically. 

“Sansa _really_ likes you, though.” Gendry froze and then burst out laughing. 

“Oh Gods, Mya. No.” He ran a hand over his wet face and held it against his forehead, still laughing. “Sansa _definitely_ doesn’t like me in that way.”

“If you say so,” Mya shrugged. “She really went to bat for you when you left, and all night she kept calling you a ‘dream’ or a ‘gem’ or whatever.” Gendry stared at Mya. He didn’t know anything about being a lesbian, but he had assumed that Mya had picked up on Sansa’s romantic leanings, especially considering the fact that they had _kissed_.

“Mya, this isn’t public knowledge or anything, but you know Sansa’s a lesbian, right?” She stopped walking.

“_What?_” 

“You kissed her!” Gendry said incredulously. Mya blinked a few times. 

“Yeah, cause I’m drunk and I thought she was some straight girl who should have at least one proper girl kiss in her life. Seven hells. She’s actually gay?” Gendry nodded, bemused by the slight panic in his sister’s eyes. Mya frowned at the pavement, talking more to herself than to Gendry. “When I first met her I thought maybe, but then she showed up with you and I was sure that she wasn’t… huh.” Gendry raised his eyebrows as Mya mumbled on about Sansa, but when his sister did snap back to normalcy, she changed the subject entirely. 

“So I’m rich now, hey?” She laughed, sticking her hands in her pockets. Gendry laughed. 

“It takes some getting used to.” 

“Little late.” He understood what she meant. It would have been nice if the money had come sooner, if it could have put her through school or put her mother through treatment. It shouldn’t have stayed hidden away in Robert Baratheon’s bank account all these years. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

-

Gendry showed Mya the photo he had taken with Edric. 

“He looks like an idiot,” she said with a smile, “What’s he like?”

“He’s a nice kid. Bad taste in football teams, but he’s got a good heart I think.” Mya nodded. 

“That’s all that matters, really. Anyone else?” Gendry shook his head, telling her all he knew about Bella and the Lannisport twins. 

“I told Edric I’d tell him if I found you,” Gendry said, “You alright with that.”

“Sure, I guess. As long as he’s not expecting to be penpals.” 

-

Mya insisted that she didn’t drink that much anyway, and that tonight was a rare occasion. Gendry believed her. She also said she was a vegetarian (hence her order of extra large fries while the rest of them ordered burgers) so she generally ate better than most. 

“And the smoking?” Gendry asked. Mya made a face as blew a cloud of smoke out of her mouth. 

“I’ve been smoking since I was fifteen, kid. I don’t think I can just up and quit.” Gendry frowned. 

“_Kid_?” 

“Yeah, you’re born in May, right?” Mya said, “I’m a February baby.” 

“Turning twenty-nine?” He confirmed, and Mya nodded. “You’re older than me.”

“Sure am, kid.” She said, “So don’t tell me what to do.” They both laughed. 

“Will you try at least?” He asked, and she stopped walking. Mya looked at him carefully, her eyes a little bit sad.

“This is me,” she said, nodding at the apartment block behind her. “I gotta go feed my cat.” They exchanged phone numbers and Gendry told her to come down to King’s Landing sometime soon. Mya nodded and turned away. 

“Wait!” He called after her. She paused and looked back at him. Her hair was wet and her eye-makeup wasn’t quite as pristine as it had been when he had first seen her behind the bar. “Do you want to get lunch tomorrow? Or just, like, hang out with us before our train comes?” She gave him that same careful, almost sad look.

“I’d love to.” She smiled back. 

-

He crawled into the hotel bed at half past five in the morning. 

“You’re cold,” Arya said groggily. 

“Go back to sleep, I’m not even touching you.” 

“But I want you to touch me,” she whined, “You’re just too cold.” He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, earning a laugh and a squeal of annoyance as his cold hands contacted her warm skin. 

“Warm me up, then,” Gendry said, and Arya tucked herself against him, rubbing her hands along his torso and his back in attempts to bring his body temperature up. He held her close, just like he always did. 

-

It was after eleven when Gendry woke up. Arya had extracted herself from his arms, leaving him alone in the bed. He checked his phone to see if Mya had texted him, but there was only a message from Arya. 

“This hotel has loads of fancy bath shit. Come join me when you’re awake.” 

-

“Mya got strangely emotional when I asked her to stop smoking,” Gendry said as Arya leaned back into his chest. It took a moment for Arya to offer an answer. 

“I’d guess that it’s been a while since someone has cared about her like that.” 

-

They met Mya at a vegetarian restaurant of her choosing, all of them looking a little worse for wear (except Sansa, who always looked ready for a photoshoot). Gendry noticed Mya raise her eyebrows at Sansa’s elegant coat and suede boots. Mya was wearing a navy sweater with text that announced her as a member of the Vale Regional Mountain Climbing Club and ripped jeans. 

Arya was very interested in Mya’s penchant for rock climbing, asking if she might be willing to teach her sometime. Mya nodded enthusiastically. 

“Totally! I could have you all climbing up to the old Eyrie castle like mountain goats in no time!” Gendry liked the thought of that, but Sansa shuddered. 

“I’ll pass,” she said. Mya smiled and raised an eyebrow. 

“You don’t trust me, Ginger?” Sansa blushed at the nickname but didn’t back down from Mya’s challenging expression. 

“I don’t like heights,” Sansa said simply, “And I’m not sure that I like the sound of being a mountain goat.” 

-

“Smoking can’t be good for your rock climbing,” Gendry mused as Mya rolled her eyes. Sansa and Arya were walking a little ways behind them, allowing the siblings a few more moments alone. 

“I could fall off a cliff at any point,” she shrugged, “A little coughing won’t change that.” They walked in silence for a few steps before Mya spoke again. “What was he like?”

“I barely knew him,” Gendry said. 

“But you did know him,” Mya looked up at him searchingly, “What was he like?”

“He was a dick. Really loud talker,” Gendry hesitated before continuing. “Sort of funny sometimes, though I did my best not to laugh at his jokes. He drank too much, but everyone seemed to like him better drunk so maybe he did it on purpose.”

Mya smiled. “My mum always said I got my temper from him.” 

“Yeah, I think he passed that down to me, too,” Gendry laughed, “He never yelled at me, though, even when I wanted him to. He seemed to sort of enjoy it when I got angry with him.” 

“Either that or he knew you could play the ‘well, you abandoned me’ card and win any argument.” 

“True,” he smiled, “You’d have won your fair share of fights with him, I think.” 

In some alternate timeline, where Robert Baratheon was a different sort of man, Gendry and Mya would have grown up together, fighting with each other and for each other. He’d get mad at her for making them late for school, busy perfecting her eyeliner in the mirror. She’d make fun of him for being the biggest, best-looking guy in their class and being afraid to ask a girl to a school dance. She would have gone to college like she’d planned to, and Gendry would know how to tie a tie. 

But in this timeline, Gendry and Mya walked side-by-side up the steep street towards the train station, half-abusing and half-mourning their shitty dead father. It was alright, really.

-

“I don’t hug,” Mya said, shaking Gendry’s hand in the train station, “but it was nice to meet you. All of you.” Gendry smiled at his big sister. 

“You’ll try to quit?” he asked, and she gave him that same sad smile. 

“You sound like my mother,” Mya laughed, “I’ll do my best, kid.” She smiled at Arya and gave Sansa a funny sort of nod before leaving.

-

The train ride back to King’s Landing was far brighter than their trip up to the Vale. Arya napped on Gendry’s shoulder while Sansa scrolled through her phone. 

“Ha!” She laughed, causing Arya to stir. “Apparently Dickon went to Theon’s party with Myrcella Baratheon. The Post says it’s got an exclusive story about how betrayed I feel and how I’m using partying as a coping mechanism.” 

“Have they got the scoop on your brief, torrid affair with a bartender yet?” Arya joked. Sansa blushed furiously and kicked at her sister’s shins. 

“Stop it, Arya. Mya only kissed me to be nice. And we were both very drunk.” Gendry watched her carefully. Arya didn’t look at him, nudge him, or make any sort of signal, but he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. “Anyway,” Sansa carried on, “The _point_ is that Dickon showed up to a party with Joffrey’s sister -,”

“I always liked Myrcella!” Arya protested.

“Oh, Myrcella is lovely,” Sansa said, waving a hand at her sister. “This just means that I have to look amazing all week. I can’t have the paps thinking I’m doing anything but completely thriving.” Arya rolled her eyes and brought her head back to Gendry’s shoulder. “By the way, Gendry, that Melisandre lady keeps messaging you on Instagram about getting together to discuss your future. Some of them include a picture.” 

“I’ll kill her,” Arya murmured.

-

“So, my sister totally wants yours,” Arya said as soon as Sansa left to catch a cab and Gendry and Arya headed towards the underground station. 

“I think it might have been mutual,” Gendry laughed. 

“It’s a shame Mya lives such a long way away and Sansa lives so far inside the closet,” Arya sighed, “They’d be sort of cute, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to make life easy for mya and sansa but then i thought nah, let's drag it out a bit. 
> 
> apologies for the opening bit but really, how hot would gendry look in one of those high-collared priest outfits? fleabag has ruined me. 
> 
> thanks for all of your kudos/comments - you are all so lovely!! xx


	6. Shireen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- sorry for the delay, i am a disaster  
\- sorry this is so stupidly long, my outline failed me  
\- i've sort of used shireen's show age for this (in the sense that i wanted her to be a bit younger than arya)  
\- sorry again!  
\- also this is barely proofread so apologies for any and all mistakes!

November was busy and blustering and cold. 

The case Arya had worked on went to trial and they won, prompting Arya to burst through the door and tackle Gendry to the couch with a hug. 

Gendry’s proposal for the youth center was rejected - the investors opted to fund a new high-rise residential building nearby the palace instead. Arya spent all evening abusing everyone Gendry worked with for not devoting their time and money to useful projects. They went to Hot Pie’s for dinner and swung by the shelter to check in on the expansion that they were funding with a sliver of Robert Baratheon’s estate. It made Gendry feel better to see that they had started setting up scaffolding and tearing out the old drywall. 

On most Saturdays, Gendry and Edric would exchange a few texts about the football results. 

Sansa was photographed in only the most stunning autumn apparel, not for a second looking as though she was suffering after her break-up with Dickon Tarly. Every tabloid wanted to know which eligible bachelor would capture her heart next. 

The flat on the floor below Arya and Gendry’s went up for lease, and their landlord told them that he would give it to them above anyone else on the waiting list, if they wanted it. “You could have an office,” Gendry pointed out, “And that punching bag I got you for your birthday could have its own room.” Arya liked that idea.

Stannis’ people found someone named Bella who had dark hair and blue eyes and lived on Visenya’s Hill, but it wasn’t her. They couldn’t find any trace of the twins named Hill, nor of their mother. 

Edric created a group chat called “Bastards Only” and made sure to check in with his siblings weekly. He was better at this part than Gendry was, all the sweet stuff. 

-

Gendry had very tentatively grown rather fond of Christmastime. Winterfell at Christmas looked like something out of a postcard and it was hard not to fall into the spirit of the thing with the Stark family. The first year had been awkward, sure, but last year, Gendry had been trusted to put the star on the tree (“Only so we don’t have to get the ladder out,” Jon had quipped) and had discovered that there was hardly anything cuter than Arya, nose pink, determinedly winning a snowball fight against Rickon and Robb (Gendry had later asked her how she managed to make mittens and earmuffs look sexy, prompting Arya to ask him how he managed to make being a sappy idiot look sexy). 

This year, Catelyn had seemed genuinely enthusiastic in her invitation and Gendry was looking forward to getting out of the city, to spending a week up north in the snow with Arya and her family. 

But he wouldn’t be up at Winterfell for a few weeks yet. First, he had to endure the slushy, miserable weather of Kings Landing and suffer through far, far too many holiday parties. 

-

December arrived wet and chilly and grey. Gendry’s boss had assigned him to another high-income residential project and he had forgotten his wallet at home, forcing him scrounge up change from his desk and eat a pack of crisps from the vending machine for lunch. He arrived home dripping from the sleet and ready to eat whatever was in the cupboards as he awaited Arya - he was too tired to cook tonight and figured they could just order in. Gendry was surprised to open the door to the unmistakable scent of hot, cheesy lasagne fresh out of the oven. 

Arya’s hair had dried with a funny wave to it - she had clearly also been caught in the freezing rain - but she looked like a goddess to him in her apron and her oven mitts, carefully setting the casserole dish onto the stove. 

“You’re home!” she said brightly as she pulled her mitts off. “Perfect timing. It just needs a few minutes to cool.” Gendry didn’t bother taking his coat or his shoes off as he stepped into the kitchen and pulled her into an aggressive kiss. She responded eagerly, breaking away briefly to smile before meeting his lips again, pulling her body tight to his. 

“I love you,” he breathed as her hands wove around his neck. How did she manage to fix even his most mundanely forgettable yet utterly miserable days?

“You love lasagne,” she laughed, running a hand through his damp hair and shaking her head. “And you’re making a puddle on the kitchen floor. Take your coat off.” He released her and stepped back towards the doorway, hanging up his coat and sliding out of his boots. 

“What are you doing home so early?” he asked. Most days he beat Arya back to the flat by at least an hour. 

“Jaqen suggested we go for drinks this afternoon,” Arya said, setting out some cutlery, “I said I wasn’t feeling up for it, so I got to head home early.” She smiled at him and he smiled back before doing his best to ask his follow-up question casually. 

“By ‘we’ you mean…,” Gendry started, and Arya rolled her eyes. 

“The entire team, Gendry, not just the two of us. They all went off for cocktails and I came home and made us an excessive amount of lasagne.” It was silly, but he couldn’t help but feel better knowing that Arya’s boss hadn’t been asking for a drink with her alone. He didn’t know much about Jaqen, but he knew that Arya was beautiful and captivating and something told him her boss knew it too. 

“Well, I appreciate it,” he said, kissing the side of her head as he moved by her to set drinking glasses out. He paused as he looked at the counter. “Arya, why are there three plates out?” She rolled her eyes and smiled. 

“Have you forgotten what day it is?” She asked. He paused, thinking. It was Friday, which meant… 

Their door buzzed rang as realization hit and he grinned as he rushed over to answer. 

“Shireen!” he cried into the intercom. “Come on up!” 

-

Shireen was his favourite cousin. She was his only cousin, but the point still stood. Shireen had treated Gendry like a long-lost brother long before he had taken any paternity test, much to the chagrin of her father, who - while not necessarily showing outward disdain for Gendry - seemed content to distance his family from any of Robert’s potential scandals. 

Gendry pulled her into a hug as soon as he opened the door. She looked much the same as she had in the summer - her straight black hair was pulled into a low ponytail, a few strands falling in her face, slightly obscuring the scars along her cheek. Her eyes were round and bright blue, warmer than Gendry’s. She hugged him tightly before pulling away and throwing her arms around Arya. 

Shireen was studying creative writing down in Oldtown, churning out short stories and student newspaper articles and even the occasional poem. She loved reading and watching movies to point out the silliest of plotholes. Her studies meant that Shireen was always swamped with assignments, making her far too busy to ever call her old cousin Gendry. 

“Shut it,” Shireen laughed, shoving him, “You know I’ve missed you.” 

They ate lasagne and asked about Shireen’s latest work, which she was rather shy about discussing. Shireen insisted upon hearing every detail of the case that Arya helped win and demanded to see photos of her newfound cousins. 

“Gods, us Baratheons do all look alike, don’t we?”

-

“I’m so happy that you two will be there tomorrow,” Shireen sighed as she put on her coat to leave. Her driver was waiting downstairs. “It’s going to be a total nightmare.” Stannis was hosting his holiday party the following evening at some swanky hotel and it was bound to be as tedious and stuffy as every other party the Prime Minister hosted. Though Gendry could not admit to enjoying all of Renly’s parties and fundraisers, _they_ at least were almost always vibrant and cheerful affairs.

The upside of tomorrow’s event was that Arya had picked out a red spaghetti strap dress that reminded Gendry of something a femme fatale in an action movie would wear. He had yet to see it on her and it certainly wasn’t the sort of thing she usually wore, but it made Gendry confident that he’d enjoy at least one thing about Stannis’ party. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he reassured his cousin, “And if it’s not, we can always sneak out and go to Hot Pie’s or something.”

“That sounds far more appealing than what dad’s got planned,” Shireen said with a grimace. At Arya and Gendry’s questioning looks, she smiled. “You’ll see.”

-

They did indeed see. 

The ring was massive and Shireen’s smile was as false as Melisandre’s rather intimidating eyebrows. Stannis made the announcement as waiters appeared with trays of champagne so that everyone in attendance could toast to him and his new bride-to-be. 

“If she’s agreed to marry him do you think she’ll finally stop trying to get into your pants?” Arya hissed. Gendry grimaced. 

“She’s not -,” 

“Oh, please, she managed to squeeze your arm three times when she said hello.” 

“Did she?” Gendry asked, “I was too busy watching her glare at you. You’ve ruined her engagement party, I hope you know that.” Arya gave him a coy little shrug. 

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, “I’m going to go rescue Shireen from the photographers.” He watched her walk away and smiled at the sight. 

Arya’s choice to wear a striking red dress had made sense to Gendry as soon as he had seen Melisandre in the same shade. He knew that Arya knew that she had no reason to be jealous of Mel, but Arya was a possessive sort of person. She didn’t take kindly to the older woman’s flirtation with Gendry. 

He had noticed Melisandre purse her lips at Arya when she greeted them, how she had drawn a critical eye along the slit up Arya’s leg, lingering on the simple ribbon Arya had used as a choker. The entire look was a clear homage to Mel’s signature red gowns and her ostentatious ruby-encrusted neck piece. It was something of a power move on Arya’s part, knowing that she would win the “Who Wore It Best?” polls that the seedy tabloids would inevitably run. It was uncharacteristically petty of her and Gendry didn’t know whether he wanted to roll his eyes or laugh, but he was too busy staring at the dangerously high slit of her dress to do either. 

(Arya insisted that the slit was practical - you can’t ride on the back of a motorbike with a constricting gown. Gendry couldn’t find an argument against it.) 

-

Melisandre cornered him and touched his arm once again, tracing his bicep until he flinched away. 

“You seem unhappy, dear,” she cooed, “Are you… disappointed by the news?” Her face searched his for a reaction and Gendry raised an eyebrow, almost impressed by her sheer lack of shame. 

“I am,” he said with a hint of forced earnestness, “I had been hoping, well…” Gendry trailed off, doing his best to look sheepish. 

“Yes?” Melisandre asked, her eyes darkening and her deep red lips curling into a curious smile. 

“I had been hoping to duck out of here quietly tonight, but now as soon as I walk out the door, I’ll have to answer a load of questions about a wedding I don’t really care about.” He gave her little shrug as he stepped around her. 

-

“Never thought I’d have something in common with Mel,” Gendry said, sliding his arm around Arya’s waist. She looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Two things, actually.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“And what are those?” Arya said, narrowing her eyes as she played along.

“Well, for one, neither of us seem to be able to take our eyes off of you and that dress for very long. And second, I think both of us wish you weren’t wearing it at all.” He earned himself exactly the reaction he had hoped for - an eye roll, a light elbow to the midsection, and a brief, heated kiss. 

-

Shireen had consumed far too many alcoholic beverages and was having a harder and harder time masking her expressions of disgust every time she caught sight of the newly engaged couple. 

“I’m glad I know you,” she slurred, holding tightly to Gendry’s arm as he escorted her out of the ballroom. Arya was tracking down Shireen’s driver. 

“I’m glad I know you too, Shireen,” he laughed. 

“No, really, like, I’m so glad ‘cause if I didn’t know you I’d think love was made up,” Shireen insisted. Gendry furrowed his brow.

“What are you on about?” 

“_Love!_” she cried, “You and Arya. You’re in love.” He looked down at her, a little bit confused. 

“We are, yes.” 

“It’s nice. Proof that it’s not only real in the stories,” she sighed. “I can’t believe he’s marrying her, Gendry. They’re not in love. They don’t even like each other! They’re just… I don’t know.” Gendry nodded. He knew what she meant. It was a strategic marriage for both parties - Stannis would appear slightly more human in the eyes of the general public and Melisandre would sink her claws deeper into the Baratheon fortune and family name. 

They stepped out the front doors of the hotel and were met with camera flashes and microphones. A dozen voices asked them how they felt about the announcement. Shireen audibly groaned, not bothering to fake a smile. Gendry snorted as he ushered her towards her driver at the bottom of the steps. 

“We’re very happy for them,” he said. Shireen gave a reporter a sarcastic thumbs up and stumbled into the car. 

Her driver strapped her into the back seat and Gendry leaned down to say good night. “We still on for that Christmas market thing?” Shireen nodded, already looking half asleep. 

-

Gendry kissed Arya as soon as they stepped through the threshold of their flat, frantically unbuttoning her coat as she pulled his jacket off. He backed her up against the wall and ran his hand up her bare thigh, smiling as her breath caught.

“I can’t believe I had to suffer through that whole party with you looking like this,” he said as he moved his hand between her legs. Arya gasped lightly and clutched his shoulders. 

“Gendry,” she breathed, her voice a little weak, “can I be honest?” He nodded. “This is the most uncomfortable dress I’ve ever worn.” He laughed and kissed her again, moving his free hand to the zipper at the back of her dress. 

-

Gendry’s office’s holiday celebration did not include any engagement announcements or heartstopping red dresses. It was dull and lifeless, and no matter how much conversation Arya attempted to make with Gendry’s colleagues, they seemed to have nothing to say. 

“Have I offended someone?” she whispered, glancing around a little nervously. 

“That’s just how they are,” Gendry shrugged. Arya frowned. The company was successful because it was reliable and efficient, not because it was particularly inspiring or bursting with personality. 

They left early, after Arya asked his boss why they continued to set aside Gendry’s affordable housing project proposals in favour of more high-income properties. Gendry’s boss appeared rather affronted and stuttered through some response about budgeting and board member input. 

“Sorry,” Arya said sheepishly as they stepped out into the rain together, “I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble.” Gendry popped their umbrella open and pulled her to his side, kissing her temple. 

“I’m sure you haven’t,” he said honestly. His boss was likely to have forgotten the conversation before the week was out. “But either way, any trouble you cause usually ends up working out alright for me.” 

-

Robb and Jeyne’s Christmas party was intimate, with all of their siblings and close friends tucked around their impressively large dining room table. 

Theon was drunkenly listing off the reasons Sansa should date him, which she laughed at politely as she patted his arm. Poor Theon stood even less of a chance than he realized. 

Shireen had been seated between Jeyne’s younger brother and Rickon Stark, so she was subjected to their in-depth discussion about their school rugby teams for most of the evening. She looked rather bored, but she put on a brave face as Rickon explained some impressive tackle he had made. 

Arya pointed out quietly that Jeyne was only drinking sparkling water, while almost everyone else indulged in wine. “Ten crowns they’ll tell mum at Christmas,” she whispered. 

“I’m not drinking either,” Gendry said, keeping his voice low, “What if people think -,” but Arya’s elbow collided with his ribcage and he grinned as she shook her head at him. 

-

Robb’s dinner party had mercifully landed on the same evening as Arya’s friend Lanna’s annual holiday extravaganza. Lanna was of the opinion that everything could be improved if it was made a little bit sexier, and her parties were no exception. Last year, Gendry had nixed Lanna’s suggestion that he go as a shirtless “Sexy Santa” - he wasn’t willing to wear anything more revealing than a red t-shirt and jeans. He was thrilled to avoid it this year, though he agreed with Arya’s insistence that she would have made for a very sexy elf. 

-

Renly and Loras held a holiday masquerade party, complete with circus performers and a champagne fountain. There were trees with painted golden needles, dressed top-to-bottom in glittering ornaments and tinsel. It was all a bit much, really. 

Gendry ripped his mask off as soon as he got into the cab, running his hand through his hair and sighing. “One more,” he said. Arya gave him a sympathetic smile as she undid the ribbons of her own mask. 

“The dress code will be far more casual tomorrow night,” she said. Her firm’s Christmas party was going to be held at an art gallery, and the invite suggested dressing ‘business casual’, which Gendry was happy to work with. If he didn’t have to wear a mask and a tie, he was on board.

-

“You looked hot in the mask,” Arya decided, tucking herself into bed beside him. “Like some sort of outlaw or something.” 

“Are outlaws hot?” he asked.

“Oh, definitely. We need to get you a sword and a cape for Halloween next year.”

“I’m only wearing a cape if you wear one, too.”

“Deal.”

-

It was stupid, because he was taller than most people, for Gendry to feel good about towering over Jaqen H’ghar when they were introduced to each other. But Gendry would be the first to admit that he could often be a bit stupid, especially where Arya is concerned. 

Arya’s boss was a handsome man with deep red hair sprinkled with some grey strands. He was dressed casually but sharply in a band-collared button down and dark jeans. He smiled as he shook Gendry’s hand tightly. 

“I’ve heard so much about you from Arya,” Jaqen said pleasantly. 

“And I you!” He said cheerfully, putting on his best smile. He was happy to see Arya beam at their friendly exchange. They discussed the case that Arya had helped the firm win, both men shamelessly fawning over the work that she had put into the suit. 

Gendry figured that he was comfortable with Jaqen being so enchanted by Arya from a professional standpoint, so long as that enchantment was indeed strictly professional.

-

She wore a black jumpsuit and her hair twisted back into a bun. He watched as she nodded along with her very skinny colleague as they admired a painting that showed dozens of odd, eerie faces. She had promised not to leave him alone for long - he had never been great at smalltalk with strangers. 

“She’s phenomenal,” a voice said, and Gendry looked over to see Jaqen at his side. “Perhaps the most impressive intern I’ve ever mentored.” Gendry smiled. 

“She loves what she does,” he agreed. “I’m not surprised that she’s doing so well.”

“I just don’t want her to lose focus,” Jaqen went on after a moment. “Her little jaunt up to the Vale last month wasn’t generally something I would approve of.” Gendry looked at Jaqen and frowned. 

“Arya works late every other Friday, though. That was only one -,” 

“And then the other week, she didn’t join us for drinks,” Jaqen carried on. “She slipped off home to cook you dinner like some little housewife.” Gendry found himself smiling at that. 

“I’ll assume you know better than to say that to her face,” he said, doing his best to focus on the amusement he felt at Jaqen’s choice of words, rather than on the rage bubbling in his chest. “Considering she’s still working with you and it looks as if you’ve still got all your teeth.” Jaqen let out a little chuckle and Gendry felt his face grow stony. 

“I just don’t want her to be held back.” 

“You really think anyone, myself included, would ever be able to do that?” Gendry asked, openly incredulous now. He didn’t bother hiding the ire he felt at the mere implication that Arya might ever do anything other than exactly what she wanted to do. Jaqen offered him an infuriatingly calm expression. 

“Arya’s quite the impressive young woman, Gendry -,” 

“I know that,” Gendry snapped. 

“I think that with the right grooming and guidance, she could get ahead very, very quickly. As long as she shows the right sort of commitment, I could see myself making her a junior partner in no time at all.” 

“I’m happy to hear it,” Gendry said, knowing that he was doing a poor job of sounding anything other than cold. “You won’t have to worry about her commitment.”

“I hope not,” Jaqen said. He took a sip of his drink. “When I look at Arya, I see myself in her.” Gendry felt his eye twitch, but he bit his tongue. 

He was rather proud of himself. Teenaged Gendry would almost definitely have started a fight at anyone using the words “I see myself in her” to describe his girlfriend. Hells, even the Gendry of a couple of years ago would have raised his hackles at the words and likely uttered a warning at the older man. Instead, Gendry kept that trademark Baratheon fury he had inherited tucked away. He offered Arya’s boss a polite smile. 

“I’ll bet you do.”

-

“I’m so sorry, I got caught talking to this old partner who wouldn’t shut up,” Arya said as she returned to Gendry’s side. “Was it horrible without me? Will you survive?” Gendry rolled his eyes at her mockery. 

“Might need mouth-to-mouth,” he said dryly, earning himself a little grin. 

“Sounds fun. Let me say goodnight to a few people and we can head out.” 

-

Arya was making the good-bye rounds and Gendry was tapping his hand against the bar, ready to leave. 

“Glad I’m not the only one who fucking hates these things.” Gendry turned to see a man with scraggly hair and burn marks spanning the entirety of the nearest side of his face. He was undeniably frightening, a whiskey in his hand and a scowl on his face, but Gendry didn’t flinch - Shireen’s face was also scarred, and she could do an impressive glare when she wanted to, but she was also one of the sweetest people Gendry knew. He nodded at the man. 

“Not my thing, yeah. Gendry,” he reached out a hand and the man looked at it for a moment before almost reluctantly shaking it. 

“Sandor,” he grunted. “Worst time of the year.”

“Isn’t it?” Gendry said, sort of excited to have found an ally. “It’s endless, party after party after party.” 

“You one of these twats?” He gestured around the room at the Black & White & Associates staff. 

“My girlfriend is,” Gendry said, a little defensively. Sandor raised his eyebrows. 

“Keep an eye on her,” he said. “That smarmy Lorathi bastard is always surrounding himself with pretty little interns.” Gendry didn’t know whether he wanted to ask further about Jaqen’s creepy tendencies or insist that Arya was far more than some cute intern. He didn’t get the chance to do either. 

“What are you doing here?” Arya snapped, grabbing Gendry’s arm and glaring at his companion. Sandor looked surprised. 

“You,” he said. For the briefest of moments, something close to shame flickered across his face. It was quickly replaced by a tired sort of expression. “The littler Stark.” 

“You two know each other?” Gendry asked, confused by the sudden tension. Arya was staring daggers at the man, as if she would happily mess his face up even further. 

“This is Joffrey’s safety blanket, Gendry. Gets that little prick out of anything.”

“_Former_ safety blanket,” Sandor corrected. “I gave up on that arsewipe years ago. But I could get him out of anything, yeah.” He shrugged. Arya was shaking beside Gendry and he decided that they should likely leave before they caused a scene. 

“Arya, let’s -,”

“You know, Mycah still has trouble finding work because of you,” she spat, “And Sansa told me… Well, she told me everything. You’re a sad excuse for -,”

“I was only doing my job, sweetheart.” 

“Hey, don’t call her sweetheart,” Gendry snarled, which cause Sandor’s face to twist into an amused smile - it wasn’t a pretty sight. Gendry put his arm around Arya’s shoulders and led her away, her eyes trained to the floor as she tried to steady her breath. 

-

“I hate him,” Arya growled as they walked the chilly streets home, every breath visible in the night. “I _hate_ him.” 

“What happened?” Gendry asked. It felt a little strange, asking her to explain. He knew everything about Arya. If she had never told him this, there was surely a reason. 

Arya grimaced. 

It had been back when Sansa was dating Joffrey. Joffrey had called Mycah something utterly disgusting and Arya had shoved him. He had fallen backwards, spraining his wrist. Somehow, Mycah was the one to take the fall. Arya had tried to claim responsibility but Joffrey had insisted that Mycah was the one to do it - acting on the advice of his lawyer. It would be easier to win a case against a boy would couldn’t afford proper representation, but Joffrey would still get his revenge on Arya. 

When Arya had punched Joffrey in the face not long after, she had been lucky that it was all caught on film. Joffrey had shoved her first, and it would have been easy for her to claim self defence - he had also called her a bitch and threatened to shut her up if she didn’t shut up first. The whole thing was a rather embarrassing scene for Joffrey, so he had been willing to let it go without pressing charges. 

Sansa had told Arya about everything - the drug dealers that were put away for years because of Joffrey’s carelessness, the girls who were paid off to not share the appalling messages Joffrey would send them, the staff who were unlawfully laid off simply because they had rubbed Joffrey the wrong way. 

And then… Arya had hesitated, chewing her lip slightly before speaking. When they had been together, Joffrey had physically hurt Sansa. It was subtle - a bruised wrist from when he had grabbed her too hard, marks on her neck from when he got carried away in bed. Sansa had gone to Clegane for help, and he had told her to leave him and move on because there was no way her claims would hold up in court - he and Joffrey would win. Sansa caught Joffrey cheating on her hardly a month after this conversation, so the point was somewhat moot, but Clegane’s indifference towards defending an abusive little prick was enough for Arya to hate him more than almost anyone she had ever met. 

“I know it was his job,” Arya spat, “I know that. But I can’t imagine being so morally corrupt that I’d go along with a piece of shit like Joffrey Baratheon.” Gendry nodded and wrapped his arm around Arya. “And Mycah’s still got a record because of it. It was a misdemeanor, but companies always balk when they see it and he only ever finds work as a temp. I still feel horrible.” She looked close to tears and it broke his heart a little bit. Gendry stopped and pulled her in for a proper hug. 

“It’s not your fault they took the slimiest route,” he said. “And I know Mycah knows that you would have taken that punishment if you could.” She nodded against his chest. 

“I know Clegane’s worked a couple of cases with a partner of ours, but I didn’t think he’d be there tonight,” Arya said as she pulled back, holding his arm and continuing their walk home. 

-

Gendry had wanted to bring up Jaqen’s comments to Arya, but after their run-in with Sandor Clegane, he decided to leave it for another day. 

Instead of changing into her pyjamas, she changed into her sports bra and some shorts and took out some frustration on her punching bag. Gendry leaned against the doorframe and watched, pleased to see that she was getting so much use out of his birthday gift. Plus, the view of Arya - sweaty and worked up and half-naked - was something he was quite partial to. 

“Shit!” she said, grabbing the bag to stop its momentum and looking at him with concern. “I promised you some mouth-to-mouth for surviving another Christmas party.” He laughed at her revelation and began to tell her that he could wait until she was finished, but she had already arrived in front of him, tugging him down into a kiss. Her body was warm and when his hands found her hair, it was damp with sweat. He had some catching up to do.

-

He spent the Saturday before Christmas with Shireen, and she had insisted that they go to the little winter market down by River Row. There were all sorts of strange trinkets for sale and interesting food choices on offer and they spent their morning working their way down the cobblestone street, a light dusting of snow on the ground. 

Gendry let Shireen spend the first hour venting about Melisandre and the wedding plans. “I’ll have to be a _bridesmaid_, Gendry. And they’ve signed me up for some bullshit family engagement photoshoot in the new year where we have to pretend that we all love each other.” 

He didn’t know what to do to help, so he bought her an oddly shaped Meereenese doughnut and promised that he and Arya would be there to suffer through the ceremony with her. 

“How is Arya?” Shireen asked, “Still working too hard?” Gendry nodded and made a face. Shireen, he figured, might be a good person to talk to about Jaqen. 

“Oh,” she said after he recounted his conversation with Arya’s boss the previous evening, as well as Sandor’s comment about Jaqen’s pretty interns, “Huge red flags. This guy’s definitely a creep. Is he handsome?”

“Does it matter?” Gendry asked, slightly offended. Shireen laughed. 

“I suppose it doesn’t, no. Arya’s, like, obsessed with you, anyway. When me and Jeyne and Sansa got talking to her last week, she went on for almost ten full minutes about how much you spoiled her on her birthday. You’ve got nothing to worry about in that sense.” 

He blushed, hoping Arya hadn’t told his little cousin _too_ much about how they had spent the bulk of her twenty-fifth birthday. Shireen seemed to read his mind. “Gendry, I’ll be twenty-one in a month. I know about sex.” 

“Hey,” he said, holding his hands up, “I don’t wanna know that .” Shireen immediately blushed and shook her head. 

“No, gods, I’m not - please. I’ve got…,” she touched her face gently and shook her head again. “I’m still a virgin, don’t you worry.” Gendry stared at her, her fingers still lingering on her scars.

“As your big, protective cousin, I’m very alright with that piece of information,” he said carefully, “But you know that you’re beautiful, right?” Shireen rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. People are always telling me that I’m beautiful despite the scars on -,”

“_Despite?_” Gendry frowned, “Fuck everyone who’s ever said that. You’re beautiful, period.” She didn’t look convinced. 

“Gendry, literally no boy has ever been within three feet of me without asking me what happened.” 

“Rickon and Rollam didn’t,” Gendry said with a teasing smile. He received a well-earned look of annoyance in return. 

“Maybe I’ll lose it with one of them, then,” Shireen said, smiling at the look of horror on Gendry’s face. 

“Don’t even joke about that,” he said seriously. “I love the kid, but if Rickon Stark so much as looked at you...”

“I was _kidding_. Seven hells, as if a boy like that would bother -,”

“Shireen,” he interrupted sharply. “I’m sure I’m not the ideal person to talk about this stuff with, but seriously, you’re -,” 

“Beautiful, yeah, you said so. Let’s get back to Arya.” She seemed ready to drop the subject, so Gendry obliged. 

“D’you think I should tell her?” He asked, “About Jaqen being weird.” Shireen nodded. 

“I think you should be honest with her, yeah. Tell her what he said. Arya deserves to know if her boss is suggesting that her making you lasagne could be held against her,” Shireen reached up and caught a snowflake in her palm. “And Gendry?”

“Yeah?” 

“I know you don’t want her to think you’re just jealous or whatever, but I think it’s alright to tell her how you really feel about it. It’s alright to be protective of the people we love.” He nodded and smiled down at her. 

“When did you get so wise?” 

“I took a course on romance novels,” she shrugged, “and almost all of the time, the problems could be solved if everyone was a little bit more honest about their feelings. They were all a bit over-dramatic for my taste, but there were some useful lessons.” Gendry grinned. 

“Any good ones?”

“Gods, well there was this medieval romance one about a princess and a blacksmith that I sort of liked in the end. He made her a sword, which was pretty cool. But even that one had all of this totally unrealistic drama. She tells him she wants to marry him and he spends, like, seven chapters deciding if he’s good enough for her. If you want to marry her, just marry her - you know?” He did know. Shireen was a smart girl. 

-

They bought hot apple cider and Shireen found some fancy Essosi tea leaves for Renly, who was constantly trying to expand the collection in his rather large tea cupboard. Gendry found a vintage poster of Bran’s favourite sci-fi/noir classic. 

“Should I get that one for Mel?” Shireen asked, pointing to a poster for some movie about an evil stepmother. 

“A bit on the nose,” Gendry laughed, shaking his head at the lead actress’ red dress. 

-

“This one is pretty, and I liked what she said about it belonging to her friend’s aunt from Storm’s End. Maybe we’re distantly related,” Shireen said, playing with the little antler charm attached to the silver chain she had picked out. “You really don’t have to, though.” Gendry shook his head. 

“It’s Christmas and I’d rather you pick out something you like. Saves me all the guesswork.” The stall they had stopped at sold antique and repurposed jewellery. There were all sorts of strange little items on display. The clasp of Shireen’s necklace was a little bit rusted, but she hung the chain around her neck happily as soon as Gendry paid. 

He noticed the ring as he put his wallet back into his pocket. 

It was a simple little golden ring with a small diamond at the center. There was a subtle pattern of leaves on each side of the stone - it reminded him of summertime. 

“Does that one have a story?” he asked the old lady behind the table. She leaned forward and frowned. 

“Ah,” she said, “I picked that up at a flea market in the Riverlands a while back. The lady selling it told me that her husband was long dead and that she cared far more about sending her daughter to school than she did about some old jewellery. Said it’d be better put to use on a hand that might actually be held every now and then. It’s a lovely little piece, isn’t it?” Gendry nodded. He could feel Shireen’s eyes on him, wide with surprise and excitement. 

“What do you think?” he asked, “If you want to marry her, just marry her, right?” 

-

“When are you gonna do it? You have to tell me as soon as you do. Oh gods, are you going to do it at Christmas?” 

“Shireen.” 

“At Winterfell? Where you met! Oh, Gendry, it’s perfect. You guys are -,”

“I haven’t even asked yet! She still has to say yes.” 

Shireen snorted dismissively. “As if she would ever say no to you. Seriously, though, when are you going to ask?” Gendry shrugged. He truly didn’t know. Maybe if they had a moment alone over Christmas, though that felt like wishful thinking. 

“I’m sure I’ll know when the timing’s right,” he said, turning the ring over in his hand. It was pretty, in a subtle sort of way - you had to look closely to see just how delicate the metalwork around the stone was. He slid it back into the tiny velvet bag the lady had given him and tucked the bag into his wallet. 

-

“No!” Arya cried as Gendry walked in the door. “Why are you home? Shireen, you were supposed to keep him out ‘til four!”

“It’s quarter past, Arya,” Gendry said with a frown as he closed the door behind Shireen, “What’s - _Mya?_” His sister was standing with her arms crossed in the kitchen. She smiled, seemingly amused by Arya’s confusion. Gendry stepped forward to hug her. 

“It was supposed to be a better surprise than this,” Arya said miserably, “Mum suggested that Mya and Edric join us for Christmas. Edric’s obviously got plans with his other family, but he sent a really lovely card to say thanks.”

“And Mya has no one, so she found a cat sitter and agreed to this,” Mya said, looking slightly apprehensive about her decision. She caught sight of Shireen and nodded in greeting. “Cool scars.” 

“Er, thanks,” Shireen blushed before turning to Arya. “Wasn’t Sansa supposed to have picked her up by now?” Arya nodded and looked at Gendry apologetically as he moved to put his shopping bags inside the door of the bedroom. 

“Mya was going to stay at Sansa’s tonight and then surprise you at the train station. But apparently we can’t keep track of time and Sansa’s -,”

“Sorry!” The elder Stark sister cried as she burst through the door. “Traffic was horrible.” Gendry raised an eyebrow at this - there had been hardly any traffic when he and Shireen had made their way across the city. If he was a betting man, he’d put money on Sansa spending an extra half hour fixing her hair and picking out the perfect outfit. She had opted for a long black coat atop sheer tights and impractically high-heeled black boots. Gendry suppressed an eye roll when he saw his sister smile at Sansa’s legs. “Hey,” Sansa said to Mya, tucking a carefully curled lock of red hair out of her face. He coughed. 

“Gendry! No! You’re not supposed to be here yet,” Sansa cried. “Oh, I’ve spoiled everything by being late, haven’t I?”

“It’s alright, Sansa, I hadn’t even noticed the time,” Arya said glumly. “Shall we just order in for dinner, then?” 

-

“You’re totally intruding on a perfectly lovely girls’ night in, I hope you know that,” Mya joked as Gendry handed her a glass of water. 

“My apologies,” Gendry smiled, “How’ve you been?” Mya shrugged. 

“Busy. Cold. My landlord thinks I’ve got a cat so he’s turned my heating off.”

“What?” Gendry said, choking a little bit on his sip of water and wiping his mouth hastily. “Mya, that’s awful.” He frowned. “You do have a cat, though, right?” 

“Yeah,” Mya said, shrugging again. “That’s not his business.” 

“Suppose not,” Gendry said. He knew that Mya knew she could move if she wanted to - she had the money. He also knew that she wouldn’t be interested in being reminded of this.

“Did Sansa think we were going out tonight or something?” Mya asked, looking over at the other girls in the dining room. Sansa had taken her coat off to reveal a tight black turtleneck and a high waisted plaid skirt. Arya had told her that she looked like an ‘Instagram girl’, which Sansa had made a face at before holding a rather rude hand gesture up to her sister. 

“That’s sort of just how she is,” Gendry said. “Always ready for a photoshoot.” However, Gendry had to admit that Sansa did seem to have put a _lot_ of effort into her look tonight.

-

Shireen’s driver picked her up before midnight and Sansa began to gather her things after they bid the younger girl goodnight. “You’re welcome to stay here,” Arya told Mya as she pulled her coat on alongside Sansa. 

“I’ve already got my spare room all made up,” Sansa insisted. “And your pullout couch is horribly uncomfortable.” 

“It’s perfectly fine!” Arya said, offended on behalf of their couch. 

“Nah, this makes more sense,” Mya said as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “You two are gonna be stuck in a house with your siblings for a week, you should take advantage of your last night of peace.” She winked as she followed Sansa out the door. 

-

Gendry would have loved to follow Mya’s advice and make the most out of he and Arya’s precious time alone. 

He lay in bed and watched Arya pull her sweater over her head, leaving her in only her bra and her jeans. Even at her most pedestrian, she managed to be sort of mesmerizing, folding up her sweater and tucking it away, slipping out of her jeans and doing the same. Her hair hung just below her shoulders, swaying slightly with her movements. She pulled an old shirt of his out of the top drawer and considered it. “Should I bother?” she asked, letting it unfurl and holding it up against her body. Gendry blinked and furrowed his brow. She smiled at him and stepped towards the bed, setting the shirt down at the foot as she climbed up and threw a leg over him. “I’m not sure I’ll need it.” 

He grinned - he couldn’t help it - and ran his hands up her bare thighs. “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly. Arya tilted her head to one side. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning down to trace a thumb lightly between his eyebrows. His eyes fluttered shut under her touch. “You’ve got your worried face on.” He smiled at her knowing tone and opened his eyes, his heart clenching at the concern in her own as they met. But he couldn’t have this conversation with her half-naked body straddling his. 

Gendry sat up, maneuvering their bodies carefully so that Arya sat on his lap, her face inches from his. He kissed her once, holding her neck in place as he drew his lips over hers, his chest tightening at the little hum of satisfaction she made against his mouth. 

He hated fighting with Arya. It didn’t have to be a fight, but somehow he sensed that it would be. He sighed against her and reached down for his old shirt. She looked confused as she took it from him, but pulled it over her head anyway. 

“What is it?” she asked, removing herself from his lap and crossing her legs as she studied her face. Gendry sighed. 

“Jaqen,” he said. He looked at her face to gauge her reaction, but there was none. Her face was blank, like a perfect marble statue. “Arya, don’t do that. Not to me.” His tone was sharper than he had intended, but the mask she had put up disappeared at his words. Her eyes softened, an odd mixture of warmth and confusion clouding them. 

“I can’t anyway,” Arya said, shaking her head with the slightest hint of a smile, “even if I try, I can’t hold onto it when I’m looking at you.” They watched each other for a moment, her grey eyes careful and vulnerable. His hand found hers and he locked their fingers together. “Tell me.” 

He did. He told her about Jaqen’s praise and his warnings, about how he had mentioned their trip to the Vale and Arya skipping drinks as flags for concern. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly as he spoke and she bit gently at her bottom lip. She didn’t look shocked, though. 

“I know you can look after yourself,” Gendry said after he relayed Jaqen’s words. “It just rubbed me the wrong way and I don’t like the idea of him holding that sort of stuff over you.” Arya nodded. 

“He _is_ a weird guy. I’m a little surprised that he would say something to you, though,” she paused, choosing her words carefully. “Jaqen definitely believes that our work should be the most important thing in our lives. He’s intense. I don’t know if I’m totally on board with his mindset, but he’s great at what he does.” Arya sighed and squeezed Gendry’s hand. “He and I just have very different priorities.”

“He really likes you,” Gendry said. “Maybe too much.” Arya’s face fell, her ever-expressive brows coming together as she frowned. 

“Him wanting me to take my job seriously doesn’t mean… Is this about that photo again? Because, really, in context -,”

“There’s no context within which your boss should be talking to you about how he’s looked at a photo of your tits, Arya,” Gendry said bluntly, shaking his head. “But it’s not about that. He used some words that made me…,” he searched for the word. Uneasy? Angry? Want to grab him by his stupid collar and tell him to never so much as look at Arya again?

“Turn into an overprotective, suspicious boyfriend?” Arya offered. There was a trace of humour in her tone, but her eyebrow was raised sharply. Gendry shook his head. 

“Sorry, no you’re right, I’m being overly suspicious. It’s totally normal for a man to say that he wants to ‘groom’ and ‘guide’ his young, hot protégé because he ‘sees himself in her’.” Arya made a face. 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I’m pretty sure he did,” Gendry said. “You didn’t hear him. And when I was talking to Clegane, he -,” Oh, he had made a mistake. Gendry hadn’t meant to bring Clegane up, really. He had told himself to avoid getting into that, if possible. He cursed himself for letting the name slip out - he could have kept it vague, said he heard about Jaqen and his interns from anyone at the party. 

Arya’s eyes flashed with anger and she tugged her hand away from his. 

“You talked to _Sandor Clegane_ about this?” she asked, her voice dangerous. “You two had a nice little chat about my career, yeah? Told him all about my relationship with my boss and got his thoughts on the matter?” Gendry scowled at her words, though he knew she had reason to not want Sandor Clegane to be at all involved in her life. 

“I said that my girlfriend worked there and he said to watch out for Jaqen because he always surrounds himself with pretty interns,” he snapped. “He didn’t even know you were my girlfriend, alright?” She let out a little laugh and looked upwards as she shook her head. 

“Ah, yes,” she smiled. “Sandor Clegane, champion of women’s rights. Always calling out the creeps, unless they’re paying him enough money to help keep the girls quiet.” She looked back at Gendry and shook her head. “You’re not seriously going to pretend that he’s got even a shred of integrity or credibility, are you?”

“Arya, I didn’t know who he was when we spoke and he brought Jaqen up unprompted. I’m not saying I trust him -,”

She slid off the bed, a hand going to her hair as she paced the room. “I should hope you’re not saying you trust Sandor fucking Clegane,” she said, shaking her head. “He ruined my best friend’s life. He basically told my sister to fuck off when she confided in him about her abusive dickhead of a boyfriend. Clegane fights for the bad guys and he’ll lie and cheat and hurt people to win. He’s everything I hate, Gendry, the lowest of the low.” Arya crossed her arms and looked at him with narrowed eyes. He sighed, frustrated and furious with himself for uttering Clegane’s name. 

“This isn’t about him.” 

“You believe him, though, don’t you.” Gendry ran a hand over his face and through his hair. He hated lying to Arya. He couldn’t lie to Arya. 

“I…,” he started, but his hesitation was enough for her to turn on her heel and walk out. 

He followed her - he always did. She was standing by the couch and unfolding a throw blanket. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. 

“Why not?” Arya spat. “You are.” 

“Arya, go to bed. That blanket isn’t warm enough, you’ll freeze. Go to bed, I’ll sleep out here if you want me to.” She looked up at him, her face angry and - he hated himself for it - hurt. 

“What I want is for you to trust me more than you trust Sandor Clegane,” Arya said. She stepped past him and shoved the blanket into his chest as she did so. “Night.” 

“Arya,” he turned, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“You said I should go to bed, so I’m going to bed.” 

She shut the bedroom door behind her and Gendry flopped down onto the couch, miserable.

-

They were running late. They didn’t have time to fight more, even if they wanted to. Gendry threw his toiletries into his bag and ran a hand hastily through his hair in attempts to make it look half-decent. His back hurt from sleeping on the couch. 

“How did you sleep?” he asked as Arya locked the screen door. She only shrugged. 

“Let’s go, Sansa’s probably already there.” 

-

The taxi ride got them to the train station in record time. Gendry hopped out to collect the bags from the back and set them on the sidewalk as Arya pulled some bills from her wallet and handed them to the driver through the window. The journey had only cost them eleven crowns, but Arya had hastily tossed the man at least twenty. 

“You dropped something,” Gendry said, bending down to pick it up. The folded paper had landed on the wet pavement but did not seem to have suffered any major damage. Arya didn’t hear him. She had already thrown her bag over her shoulder and started towards the doors of the station. He rolled his eyes and shoved the paper in his back pocket, following her into the station.

-

If Sansa and Mya sensed any tension between Arya and Gendry, neither let on. They chatted away all the way up to Wintertown, thick as thieves. Mya seemed less apprehensive about the upcoming holiday than she had the evening before, and Sansa was excitedly going over the gifts she had bought for her family (save for what she had purchased for Arya and Gendry, of course). 

Arya slept for most of the journey, her head coming to rest on Gendry’s shoulder. It made Gendry feel a little bit better knowing that she had also slept poorly, with him not at her side. He then felt bad for feeling happy that she had slept badly. He sighed to himself as he put his head against the window, watching as the slushy city turned into snowy, rolling fields, leading into the deep forested Riverlands and then the icy marshlands. He had replayed their argument about seventy times in his head by the time the familiar dramatic hills and cliffs of the North appeared. The snow was deep and coming down heavily, frosting the window of the train. 

He thought of Shireen’s advice about communication being the solution to almost every stupid conflict in all of those love stories. When they had a minute alone, he’d lay it all out for Arya - he didn’t trust Jaqen, he didn’t trust Clegane, but he trusted her. At the end of the day, he only cared about her. 

He tilted his head to watch Arya sleep, ignoring Sansa and Mya’s excitement over their shared appreciation for some hospital-based soap opera. Her cheeks were pink and with each slow breath, she would blow the same strand of hair up and it would fall back into her face as she inhaled. He suppressed a laugh and reached down, tucking the loose lock behind her ear. He did his best to be gentle so as not to wake her up. She smiled in her sleep and he smiled at her. 

“You’re right, yeah,” Mya said, “He is a big softie.” 

“Only for her,” Sansa said. He rolled his eyes and didn’t engage, instead opting to turn back to the window and watch the snowy landscape zoom by.

-

The first year, Gendry had been in the old valet’s quarters, which had been converted into a neat little spare room with a twin bed. Arya had been offended on his behalf, but he hadn’t expected much better. Last Christmas, he had been in a properly fancy room, one with an ensuite bathroom and a large, ornate fireplace. This year, he didn’t get his own room at all. 

“You two are up in Arya’s bedroom,” Catelyn said dismissively after giving them each a hug, moving past them to introduce herself to Mya. “We’ve got the fire going already.” Arya blinked at her mother but didn’t protest, moving out of the foyer and towards the staircase. 

-

“Weird that I’m allowed to sleep in here now,” he said. Arya shrugged and threw her bag on the bed. He sighed. “Arya -,” 

“Arya!” Catelyn’s voice called from the other side of the door, “Lottie is asking after you, she says she missed you this summer. Do you have time for a cup of tea? She’s down in the kitchens.” 

“Of course!” Arya replied, and she turned to leave. Gendry frowned as she left. 

“I’m just going to shower,” he said, but she was already gone. 

-

He spent far longer than he needed to in the shower, enjoying the warmth (he liked the snow, but he still wasn’t accustomed to winters this cold) and wondering how quickly the rest of the house would pick up on the fact that Arya was very decidedly not speaking to him. 

Gendry re-entered Arya’s room with a towel secured around his waist and his clothes rolled into a ball, only to find that in his absence, the room had been torn to bits. The contents of Arya’s suitcase was strewn across the floor, her wallet and all of its cards and coins haphazardly thrown across the bedspread. His own bag was open, being rifled through by an utterly distraught looking Arya, who was kneeling on the floor. 

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and dangerously close to tears. “I’ve lost it,” she said, sinking down and shaking her head hopelessly. 

“It looks like it,” Gendry said, swiftly moving to her and tossing his worn clothes to the floor as he knelt beside her. “What did you lose?” He asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder, relieved when she didn’t lean away. 

“It’s stupid,” she said. She looked down, moving a few of his socks back into his bag. “It should be in my wallet but it’s gone and I don’t know where it could be, I -,”

“Wait,” Gendry said, reaching over and extracting his jeans from his t-shirt and sweater. He stuck his hand into the pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper that had fallen from Arya’s wallet. “Is this what you’re tearing the room apart for?” He held the paper up and she yelped, grabbing it and holding it to her chest, staring at him. “You dropped it outside the train station in the city,” he said. “I tried to tell you but you’d already walked off. I’d completely forgotten about it.” She was still holding it to her chest, staring at him with wide eyes. “What is it?” he asked. Arya held the paper out to him. 

“A love letter,” she said quietly as he unfolded it. It was curling slightly at the edges and based on the creases, it appeared to have been folded and refolded numerous times. 

“You kept this?” Gendry asked. He felt sort of winded as he scanned the three-year-old letter. There was nothing romantic about the words, nothing poetic about the matter-of-fact address and the professional tone. She had given this letter to him once before, in the bedroom of his old apartment. It had been in his hand the first time he had told her that he loved her. 

“Of course I kept it,” Arya said. She pushed a wet strand of hair from his forehead. “I read it when I feel down or when I miss you or - what?” Gendry was smiling. 

“I was only in the shower,” he laughed. “I wasn’t far.” She shoved his bare shoulder lightly. 

“You were taking forever and I was mad at you,” she said. “And then I couldn’t find it and I panicked.”

“Was?” He touched the end of her hair lightly. “Are you not still mad at me?” Arya took the letter back, folding it carefully and setting it beside her. She looked at him, as if deciding whether or not she was indeed still angry. 

“I’ve decided to put it on hold,” Arya said, and she swiftly moved on him, pushing him down so that he was pinned to the floor and she sat atop him, “Because you found my letter.” She ran her hands up his chest, letting out a happy little sigh. “And because it’s hard to be mad at you when you’ve got your shirt off.” Arya leaned down to kiss him as he sat up to kiss her and they met halfway, his hand tangling in her hair and her hands clutching the side of his face. He rolled them so that he lay above her, his still-damp hair falling forward as she smiled up at him. 

“I trust you,” he said firmly. “More than anyone, far more than Jaqen or Clegane. I hope you know that.” Arya’s smile faded into a serious expression and she nodded. 

“I do. I trust you, too,” she said, “And I love you for always looking out for me. I can handle Jaqen’s weirdness, though, I promise.” Gendry nodded. 

“I know you can,” he said, lowering himself so that his nose was against hers and their lips grazed against each other. He ducked his head lower and kissed her neck. “You can handle anything.” She giggled as his wet hair tickled her skin and pulled him back so that they were face to face. 

“And if I ever need back-up, I’ve got you.” And she did.

-

Gendry hated fighting with Arya, but he _loved_ making up with Arya. She managed to shed her clothes almost as quickly as he shed his towel, and neither cared that the fancy old rug they lay upon was likely the least comfortable surface at their disposal. They would take advantage of the bed and the vanity and the loveseat in due time. 

-

“Lottie will be pleased to hear that we’ve made up,” Arya said as she traced patterns on his chest. “She was very upset with me when I said I was annoyed with you.” Gendry raised his eyebrows. 

“She was upset with _you_?” he laughed, running a hand through Arya’s hair. Winterfell’s resident cook was exceptionally fond of Arya, and Gendry had trouble imagining her taking Gendry’s side. Indeed, when he and Arya had not-so-subtly turned their longing glances and hesitant mutual attraction into a full-blown love affair, Lottie had brandished her spoon at him the next time he entered the kitchen, telling him that if he hurt that girl he wouldn’t be welcome at her kitchen table any longer. He liked Lottie, though - she seemed to approve of him, and when he returned to Winterfell the following Christmas, she had beamed at the two of them, insisting that she knew they would work it out. 

“Yeah, she knew something was wrong immediately and demanded that I tell her everything,” Arya sighed. “She thought you were, like, worried I was going to cheat on you.” 

“_What?_” Gendry cried. “Come on, Lottie.” 

“I choked on my biscuit,” Arya laughed. “I told her that you were fully aware that there was no chance of that happening, and that you were only trying to tell me you thought my boss was a creep.” 

“Citing your worst enemy as a primary source as I did so, though,” he added fairly. 

“Exactly,” she said, her voice light. “Lottie called me a fool.” Gendry snorted at that. “Said that I was lucky to have someone who cared enough to be concerned for me.” 

“That’s hardly fair,” Gendry said. Arya had every right to not want to hear Sandor Clegane’s opinion on the matter (or on any matter). Arya kissed the base of Gendry’s neck and shushed him. 

“She was right, though, really. I am very lucky.” 

-

It wasn’t until much later - after they had eaten dinner and stayed up to catch up with Rickon and Bran and Sansa and Mya and Catelyn, after they had eaten their fill of Christmas cookies and had promised Catelyn that they’d decorate the tree the following day, after Gendry and Arya had retired to her room and made up a second time, and a third time - that Gendry thought about the ring. 

“Arya,” he said suddenly. “Did you look through my wallet? When you were looking for that letter, I mean.” 

“No,” she replied, her voice tired. She must have almost been asleep. “Why?”

“Nothing important. I meant to check if I’d brought the card we used to pay for last night’s dinner. I might have left it by the front door.” Arya hummed, seemingly satisfied with his mundane and inconsequential answer. He left her drift off to sleep as he thought about the little velvet sachet in his wallet. 

It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if Arya _had_ found the ring - it wasn’t as if he was trying to spring the question on her and catch her off guard. He figured that she knew he would be asking her at some point, anyway. But he was glad that she hadn’t gone through his wallet - he would like to be present when she first saw the ring, at the very least. He hadn’t figured out how he wanted to ask her, or where he would do it, but he was sure he’d know the right moment when it arrived. 

-

He woke up with Arya tucked into his chest. The snow was falling in large, fluffy flakes outside the window and he felt properly happy. 

They decorated the tree and wrapped an excessive amount of tinsel around the bannisters of the main staircase. Gendry, Bran and Rickon were sent off to collect firewood while Arya, Sansa and Mya went down to help Lottie prepare dinner. Lottie was excited to make some extra vegetarian options with Mya’s assistance. 

Arya caught Gendry as he was carrying a stack of wood from the shed into the living room to set by the hearth. Her arms were folded and her expression was rather dreamy. 

“Just like old times,” she mused. 

“What? You standing around looking pretty while I do manual labour?” he asked as he passed her and dropped the wood in its spot. She shrugged. 

“Yeah, basically,” she said, tugging him down by the front of his winter coat and kissing him. “You weren’t shivering so much back then, though.” He grinned. 

“So warm me up, then.”

“_Eugh_,” Rickon cried as he entered the room, “can you two keep it to the bedroom?” Arya laughed and let go of Gendry. 

“No promises, Rick.” 

Robb and Jeyne arrived just in time for dinner. Jeyne had no wine with dinner and Catelyn glanced curiously at her eldest son a few times but said nothing. Gendry did notice her smile slightly every time Jeyne declined a cocktail or a glass of wine over the next few days, though.

-

Christmas Eve dinner was a loud and chaotic and wonderful evening. Shireen arrived that morning, free from her obligations to pose for Christmas photoshoots with Stannis and Mel. 

“Are you sure they don’t want you to be spending the holiday as a family?” Catelyn asked worriedly when Shireen took her seat between Mya and Gendry. 

“I’ve got more family in this house than down in King’s Landing, Cat,” Shireen reminded her, squeezing both of her cousins arms. Mya looked rather affected by this and smiled fondly at her newfound cousin. 

The meal was delicious and the night was made only better by Jon’s unannounced arrival in time for dessert. Arya screeched and stood up, running over to hug her favourite brother. He caught her and kissed the top of her head, grinning as she berated him for not telling her that he would be there. 

-

It was after Jon’s arrival that Robb and Jeyne finally announced that they were indeed expecting a baby. Catelyn’s eyes welled up and Sansa called ‘dibs’ on hosting the baby shower. Arya insisted that Gendry owed her ten crowns, which he protested vehemently, reminding her that he had not been stupid enough to bet against her. 

-

“D’you think that would have been us?” Mya asked after dinner, nodding towards Arya and Jon. They were sitting by the fire and Arya was insisting on hearing all about Jon’s job, even the boring bits. “Best friends and all that?” Gendry laughed. 

“Maybe,” Gendry said, “Probably not, though. I think we’d have wanted to rip each other’s heads off half of the time.” 

“Yeah,” Mya agreed. “It would have been sort of fun I think.” Gendry nodded. “This is nice, though. I don’t usually do Christmas.” 

“I hadn’t in years,” Gendry said. “Didn’t realize how much I missed it ‘til I spent it with this lot.” Mya nodded and, without warning, pulled him into a hug. 

-

The evening was spent in the living room with the fire lit. Rickon gleefully watched Bran finally find some Scrabble competition in the form of Shireen. Sansa filled Jeyne in on the most recent Westerosi socialite gossip (Mya listened with a somewhat bemused expression, as if she couldn’t believe how very ridiculous rich people could be - Gendry knew the feeling). Arya prodded Jon for information about his current flame, Val, who he worked with (Arya said that he should be careful, sleeping with a coworker. Jon said that it would be far worse to sleep with an employee. Gendry protested that he had technically been Catelyn’s employee, but Jon only laughed as Arya scowled and returned to frantically trying to track down Val on Facebook). Catelyn nearly fell asleep on her eldest son’s shoulder and eventually excused herself, asking them all to turn out the lights when they went to bed. 

Gendry stood to follow her, telling Arya and Jon he’d be right back.

-

“Catelyn,” he said, catching her in the main hallway. She turned and gave him a warm smile. “Could I have a quick word?”

“Only if I can have one first, Gendry,” she said. She walked up the stairs and motioned for him to join her. Gendry followed her into her study and Catelyn shut the door behind them. She looked down a little awkwardly before bringing her chin up and looking at him properly. “I owe you an apology.” Gendry immediately shook his head. He had never been one for formalities, and he had known for a while now that Catelyn Stark approved of him. It was nice, no longer feeling as though he was an obstacle in the mother-daughter relationship, but it wasn’t as if Catelyn’s mistrust of him would ever be enough to keep him from being with Arya. He wasn’t sure that anything, save for Arya herself not wanting him, could do that. 

“You don’t -,”

“I do,” Catelyn said sharply. “Please, let me finish.” He nodded, slightly amused by how stern her tone had become. Her voice was softer, though, when she continued. “I used to think that you might be the worst thing that could happen to Arya. I thought you might bring out her less sensible traits and discourage the ones I approved of. And I was certain that it would end just like Robert and Lyanna, though I prayed that the Gods would have mercy and Arya would end up heartbroken, rather than pregnant or dead.” Gendry stared at her, having absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say to that. “You’re nothing like your father. You look like him, so much so that I wonder what Ned would have made of all of this, watching his best friend’s double fall in love with his precious little girl. But you’re not like Robert.” 

Gendry scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He had only wanted to thank Catelyn for inviting Mya - he hadn’t expected to have a serious conversation about their dead family members. “Er, yeah, I don’t think I’m like him,” he mumbled.

“And more importantly,” Catelyn carried on, “You do bring out Arya’s less sensible traits. There was no need for her to go to law school! She could have just started a charity like Sansa and done humanitarian work and be done with it. But she wanted to put in the work and get her hands dirty. I hated the thought at first, but I can’t see her doing anything else. Can you?” Gendry shook his head. He was smiling now. 

“She doesn’t like to watch from the sidelines, no,” he laughed. 

“It would be foolish for me to give you credit for that,” Catelyn said, “Gods know she’d find out and insist on arguing over my choice of words. But I do think that you helped her figure out what she truly wanted in life. And I don't think she could ask for a better partner. So, I hope that you can accept my apology. I was very wrong about you.” 

“Thank you,” Gendry said, unable to keep the awkwardness out of his words. “I’m sorry, too. For sleeping with your daughter at work. And for lying about the money you gave me.” Catelyn winced, but she looked sort of amused. “Can I ask why we’re having this conversation tonight?” 

“Well, Arya reminded me of how… unfair I had been. But you can also blame Sansa to some degree. She told me that she’s... ,” Catelyn exhaled, “A lesbian. She mentioned it this morning, while we wrapped presents. I was rather surprised, but I suppose she’s dated enough men to know.” She shook her head. “It’s been quite a day. Sansa likes women, Robb’s going to be a father, you’re…,” she trailed off, smiling. “Sansa told me that you were the first person she told.” 

“It was sort of a fluke,” Gendry admitted, his neck heating up at the genuine warmth in Catelyn’s eyes. “I was just… there.”

“You were there, yes.” She smiled. “Anyway, Gendry, it’s getting late and you had a question to ask me, I believe.” 

“Yes!” Gendry said. “Wait, no. I didn’t have a question. I only wanted to thank you for having Mya for Christmas. It means a lot to her, I think, not spending the holidays alone.” Catelyn blinked at him. She looked slightly thrown off by his words. 

“Oh. Well, of course, it’s not a problem. Is that all?” 

“Yes,” Gendry said hesitantly. Catelyn seemed to have been expecting something else from him. He bit. “Unless there was something else that you wanted to talk about, that is.”

“Well, I thought - and I don’t mean to put any pressure on you, Gendry - but I had assumed that you might be hoping to discuss a marriage proposal. Obviously you have my blessing and I am positive that Ned would echo that, were he alive. As far as rings are concerned, Sansa’s always wanted to use my own mother’s, so I’ve had Ned’s mother’s set aside for Arya.” Catelyn caught a glimpse of Gendry’s eyes, which were like saucers, and stopped speaking. “My apologies - I don’t mean to rush you. I just wanted to make sure that you know you have my approval and that when you _are_ ready, there is a ring waiting for her.” Gendry blinked. 

“I’ve already got a ring,” he said quickly. He felt like an idiot. Why had he bought Arya a ring? Of course she’d have some priceless family heirloom awaiting her. He had spent pennies, relatively speaking, on a used ring with a miniscule diamond that he’d found at a stall in a travelling market. Oh, he was stupid. Catelyn was staring at him. 

“You’ve already got a ring?” she breathed, her face lighting up. “When were you planning on asking? Or are you two already engaged? Has she not told -,”

“I haven’t asked yet!” Gendry cut in before Catelyn’s imagination could run amok. “Can I see the ring?” Catelyn looked hesitant before sliding a drawer open and pulling out a little box. 

It was unbelievable. The diamond, which looked to be wider than Arya’s finger, was surrounded by little glittering sapphires and the band was shining and silver. If a price could be attached to it, it would likely cost more than the flat he and Arya shared. It made the ring he had chosen look pathetic, borderline kitschy. 

“This is the ring Sansa _didn’t_ want?” Gendry croaked, taking the Stark family ring in hand and staring at it. “Seven Hells, Catelyn, her whole arm will be weighed down with this thing on her hand.” Catelyn snatched the ring back and frowned at him.

“She’s not going to wear it,” she said firmly. “She’s going to wear the ring you’ve got for her.” Gendry swallowed at the thought. 

“It’s a lot smaller,” he said, “And it only cost -,”

“I don’t care what it cost. If you chose it for her, you should give it to her. You can use the Stark wedding band, though, when the time comes. I think that would be a nice touch.” Gendry watched her snap the box shut and from her face he could tell that there would be no arguing with her. “And please, when you do ask her, send me a text so that I don’t have to read about it in some tabloid a week later.”

-

Gendry froze as soon as he walked into the bedroom. Arya had a leg up on the bed and was fastening up one of those little straps that connected stockings to her lingerie. He never knew what they were called - garlands? Garters? Terminology aside, Arya was wearing lingerie. Proper, lacy lingerie that made her look like she had just stepped off the runway of some Visenya’s Secret fashion show. Except instead of the confident sultry gaze of a model, Arya met his eye with an apprehensive smile and a shake of her head.

“Hi,” she said with a slight blush, taking her leg off of the bed and tucking her hair behind her ear. Gendry tried to return the greeting, but it came out as more of an unintelligible mumble as he blinked at the vision in front of him. “Lanna said it’s her Christmas gift to both of us,” Arya laughed, holding her arm across her body and grabbing the opposite elbow. “It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

It was certainly unlike anything else Arya owned. Gendry was certain at this point that Arya could make anything - Gendry’s old t-shirts, the little blazers she wore to work, her running gear, the puffiest winter jacket she owned, that red dress she had worn to annoy Melisandre - look sexy. But this was a different sort of sexy, an intentional sort of sexy, one that, when placed alongside Arya’s effortless magnetism, might have created an odd sort of juxtaposition (it didn’t), one that she looked almost unsure that she could convincingly pull off (she absolutely could). Gendry realized then that he had been staring, mouth agape, for a few seconds now, and Arya was awaiting a response. “It’s good,” was all he managed as he moved towards her. Arya tilted her head to one side. 

“Just good?” She smiled as Gendry reached her and placed his hands on her hips, thumbing lightly at the delicate lace that ran up her midsection. He answered her with a kiss that grew steadily more urgent, his left hand moving down to her thigh and his right hand coming up to her neck. She pulled away and he saw that all of the uncertainty in her eyes had vanished, replaced by a familiar heated expression. He couldn’t help but grin at as she shoved him backwards onto the bed.

-

“Gods, Gendry,” Arya said breathlessly, “you’ve worn me out.” Gendry grinned at her, his own chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“I feel as if I’ve worked off that whole meal,” Gendry agreed, running his hand through his hair. “I could eat a whole tin of that shortbread Jeyne brought.” 

“Oh,” Arya said, her eyes lighting up as she almost gasped the word. “I would _kill_ for shortbread.” 

-

Winterfell was an old and grand estate. It had seen its fair share of upgrades over the years, but there were window frames that needed an extra push to open fully and door frames that sit a little low for people as tall as Gendry. He knew that no matter how delicately he walked down the stairs to the kitchen, the wooden stairs would creak, so he did his best to tread lightly as he made his way down. He thought it was odd that Lottie had left the lights on until he heard voices. 

“Seriously, Ginger? You’ve never even been on a roller coaster?”

“I don’t like scary things!” 

Gendry froze. The last thing he wanted to do was intrude upon Sansa and Mya carrying on with their flirtation in private. 

“I think you might,” Mya’s voice said, “if you tried a few more things that scare you.” Her voice had grown oddly quiet. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Sansa said, barely loudly enough to Gendry to hear, and a moment later, someone - presumably Mya - made a noise of satisfaction. Of course he would time his midnight shortbread run to align precisely with his sister and Arya’s sister making a move on each other. He groaned internally, and began to step back up the stairs. 

“Hey,” Sansa’s voice said, “This is just between us, right? We don’t have to tell anyone?”

A pause. 

“Yeah, Ginger. We’re just having a bit of fun.” 

Another pause. 

“Cool.” 

“Cool.” 

Gendry frowned and crept back up the stairs.

-

He tossed Arya a handful of little individually wrapped chocolates he had stolen from a bowl in the living room on his way upstairs. Her eyes lit up as she sat up and selected one.

“No shortbread?” she asked, unwrapping her chocolate (she chose the hazelnut one, as he had suspected she would). 

“Had to take a detour,” Gendry said, sliding back into the bed and picking up one of the toffee-flavoured ones he liked. “Kitchen was occupied.” Arya raised her eyebrows, intrigued. 

“Oh?”

“I think your sister might have kissed mine,” Gendry said, and Arya’s jaw dropped. 

“Sansa made the first move?” Arya gasped. Gendry nodded, chuckling at the sheer shock in her tone. “They were definitely flirty this evening… After you left, Robb was asking Mya about climbing because he wants to work on his upper body strength or whatever and Mya flexed her arm while she explained something and totally made sure Sansa was looking.” Gendry couldn’t help but snort at that. The exchange he’d overheard after the kiss, though, left him feeling a little funny. 

It was fair, he knew, for Sansa to take her time coming out publicly. She had every right to keep her relationships private. But he didn’t like the idea of Mya being some secret in Sansa’s closet. Sansa cared a _lot_ about what the press said about her, and Gendry could all too easily imagine her severing any contact with Mya if the tabloids got even a sniff of what might be going on between them. Or worse, Mya’s name could end up plastered on every front page, another Baratheon bastard sneaking around with a Stark. 

Gendry had done the secret relationship thing. He got it - there was something irresistible about the risk of being caught, something comforting about having it all to yourself. It felt like the smart option, the easier option. It wasn’t though, not really. Sneaking around with Arya had been thrilling and sexy and perfect, but they had been surrounded by a handful of sweet, older staff members, most of whom pretended not to notice Arya leaving Gendry’s little cottage in the mornings and who turned a blind eye to their blatant flirtation. The only real threats were Septa Mordane, who they avoided with relative ease, and Sansa, who had inadvertently (and only temporarily) ruined everything. If Sansa and Mya wanted to take this further, it would be a lot harder outside of Winterfell’s gates. The city was full of people with cellphones and paparazzi cameras - people _looking_ for a story. Secret relationships were dangerous and though things had worked out almost impossibly well for Gendry, he had seen first hand just how easily they could blow up and hurt people. 

And then there was Mya, insisting that whatever was going on between her and Sansa was only a bit of fun. He should have marched right into the kitchen and told them both to be smarter about this. 

“Gendry,” Arya said, and Gendry realized she had asked him something. “What did you and my mum talk about?” 

“Oh,” Gendry said. “I had wanted to thank her for having Mya for Christmas and she went on for twenty about how she didn’t hate me.” 

“That’s probably my fault,” Arya said, picking up another sweet. “At lunch a couple of weeks back, she started talking about you like you were the gods’ gift to son-in-laws and I mentioned how shitty she had been to you. She got all worried that you might think she still hated you.” Gendry let out a little laugh, but he was sort of stuck on the casual nature with which Arya had used the phrase ‘son-in-law’, as if the two of them were already married. It made his heart rate speed up and he smiled sort of stupidly at Arya, her face lit up by the moonlight spilling in their window. 

-

Christmas morning was hectic. There were far too many people around to keep track of who gave what to whom, and Catelyn was always far too generous with her gifts. This year, she had given Gendry and Arya a car. It was waiting for them down in King’s Landing, apparently. It had apparently belonged to Catelyn’s brother, but he never drove it and had sold it to her on the condition that it went to a good home. Apparently it was rather old and, while in decent condition, could us a bit of tinkering and fixing up, which was something that Catelyn knew Gendry enjoyed. He thanked her, though he suspected her generosity was at least in part due to the fact that no matter how much she approved of him, she would never approve of his motorbike.

“What the fuck?” Rickon demanded, “That truck is awesome.”

“_Language_, Rick,” Catelyn said sharply, “Open your gift before you complain about what I’ve given Arya.” 

Rickon opened up his tickets to the championship game of the Westerosi Rugby League and any envy he had towards Arya and Gendry was replaced with sheer enthusiasm. 

“Aw, Mum, you’re amazing!” the youngest Stark had exclaimed, forgetting his disappointment over not inheriting his uncle Edmure’s truck. “It’s being held in Highgarden this year,” he said, turning to Shireen. “Your neck of the woods.” She blinked at him. 

“Er, yeah, I suppose so,” she said. Rickon’s geography, while not totally incorrect, seemed rather irrelevant. Gendry didn’t have time to question this, though, because Sansa had squealed loudly at the pearl earrings her mother had bought her which, according to Arya, cost more than the car they had just acquired. 

-

Christmas dinner was a loud affair. Gendry ended up seated between Jon and Shireen. The latter was explaining to Rickon that Highgarden was at least a three hour drive from Oldtown, which Rickon seemed surprised by. 

“So, when are Arya and I allowed to come bother you for a weekend?” Gendry said. They had said they’d visit Jon for ages now, but he was always busy and the timing never worked out. Gendry did his best not to hold Jon’s busy schedule against him, but he hated the look of disappointment that lingered in Arya’s face every time their plans to go north fell through. Jon raised his eyebrows as he finished chewing his potato and set his fork down. 

“I was thinking about that last night,” Jon said. “Arya would love it up there - it’s winter all year round that far north, and even in the summer we barely get any sunlight, but you two will have to come.” He thought for a minute, as if he was thinking through the upcoming months for an opening. “How about the summer? Earlier in the season, we usually aren’t so busy - I might be able to show you guys around for a few days.” Gendry smiled. 

“Sounds perfect!” He said, “She’ll be over the moon.” Jon returned the smile and then hesitated. 

“Maybe don’t tell her until I can confirm things,” he said, glancing over at Arya, who was deep in conversation with Jeyne and Bran. “I don’t want to get her hopes up and then let her down.” Gendry nodded, mentally promising himself that he would make this trip happen no matter what. 

-

Gendry wasn’t always one for crowds of people and outpourings of affection, but he felt a genuine sadness as he bid farewell to Winterfell and the Starks. Part of him was looking forward to returning to their quiet apartment with Arya, but he would miss the snow (it was much nicer than the slush of King’s Landing) and the sleep-ins (the thought of waking up on Monday morning and dragging himself to the office made him shudder) and the people (even though he’d see almost all of them in a matter of days at Theon’s New Year’s Eve party). 

-

“Are you staying down in the city ‘til New Year’s then?” Sansa asked casually as the train sped through the forest. 

“Yeah, might as well,” Mya said, “This party you’ve told me about sounds too good to pass up.” Sansa smiled. “Not sure I’ve got anything fancy enough to wear, though.” 

“Oh, please,” Sansa said, “You always look, like, effortlessly cool.” Mya blushed and shook her head. Gendry and Arya avoided each other’s eye as Sansa insisted that Mya totally pulled off the punk look, which lead to Mya talking about how Sansa always looked like a supermodel. Even Shireen, seated across the aisle with Bran and Rickon, raised an eyebrow and gave Gendry a curious look.

Gendry watched Mya for a moment before realizing with a jolt that the look on her face was exactly the look their father had worn in an old photograph of him with Lyanna Stark. It was the same face Gendry saw when he opened the fridge every morning - the one stupidly plastered on his own face in a photo from Robb’s wedding, Arya falling back into Gendry’s arms as Catelyn tried to organize a group picture. What was it with Baratheons and their Stark girls?

-

“I’ve had enough parties,” Gendry grumbled as he, Arya, and Mya arrived at the club Theon had rented out. It was a black tie affair, but Gendry had put his foot down and decided that wearing a suit and a dress shirt was as much as Theon would get out of him. Arya wore a little velvet green dress that Sansa immediately tutted at. 

“Didn’t you wear that to Arianne’s birthday party last spring?” Sansa hissed, “You can guarantee the Post will run some article about how you’ve already worn it.” Arya looked at her sister for a moment and then sighed. 

“Sansa, the Post is convinced that Jeyne seduced Robb for his money and that Gendry wants to run for Prime Minister one day. There are far more interesting things for you to worry about” she turned to look at Mya, who was saying hi to Shireen. “Doesn’t Mya look good tonight?” Sansa narrowed her eyes at her sister but followed her gaze. Her lips parted at Mya, wearing a high-necked black dress that she and Arya had found at a little consignment store the day before. 

Arya grabbed Gendry by the arm and pulled him into the party, leaving their sisters to themselves. 

-

Three minutes before midnight, Gendry watched Sansa and Mya discreetly slip out the side door.

-

At midnight, Arya kissed him. She pulled away as glitter and confetti fell around her, dusting her cheeks and nose and hair with gold and silver flecks. 

She rested her head on his chest as they swayed along to the song that played, Theon singing loudly along in his poorest impression of a Northern accent. 

-

Seven minutes into the new year, he got a text from Edric that featured at least a dozen confetti emojis. 

-

Twelve minutes after midnight, he noticed Rickon Stark looking confused and almost glum at the bar. He followed his gaze to see Shireen in close conversation with a sandy-haired boy that Gendry didn’t know. He glanced back at Rickon, who was frowning, and back to Shireen, who smiled shyly at something the boy had said to her. He looked back and forth once more. 

“What’s your problem?” Arya asked, smiling as she hooked her elbow through his. 

“Your brother’s looking at Shireen,” he said. Arya looked over at the bar and snorted. 

“Rickon looks at a lot of pretty girls, Gendry. He’s sort of a sucker for them,” she said, “Shireen seems to know she can do better, look.” She nodded over to Shireen and her companion, though this sandy-hates stranger did nothing to ease Gendry’s apprehension.

“I hope she knows she can do better than either of them,” he grumbled.

“Stop being such a big brother,” Arya said. “Though I suppose you need practice for when we track down Bella and those twins.” 

Gendry tore his eyes away from Rickon and nodded. “What?” He demanded, surprised by the shining look Arya was giving him. She shrugged. 

“You’re just sort of sweet,” she said, “even when you’re staring down my baby brother.”

-

Shireen left the party without a date - she and her driver offered Genry and Arya a ride home, which they accepted happily. 

“Should we find Mya and ask if she needs a lift?” Arya asked, but Shireen only snorted. 

“She and Sansa left an hour ago,” she said, smiling knowingly. Gendry smiles back, but his insides felt a little funny. If Gendry, Arya, and Shireen (and likely now Shireen’s driver) knew the circumstances under which Mya and Sansa had left together, it was not a stretch to suggest that others had noticed. 

-

He knocked on Sansa’s door at what he figured was a reasonable hour, and she opened it with a grin that immediately faltered. 

“Gendry!” she recovered quickly, “What are you doing here?” 

“Is Mya still here?” Gendry asked, not bothering to skirt around it. Sansa’s cheeks went as red as her hair and her eyes widened. “Can I come in?”

She stepped aside and shut the door behind him, turning and folding her arms across her body nervously. “Look,” she started, “it’s nothing. We’re just -,”

“Having a bit of fun?” Gendry said, raising an eyebrow. Sansa frowned. “Listen, Sansa, I was on my way to get a midnight snack on Christmas Eve and -,”

“You eavesdropped on us?” Sansa hissed, looking scandalized. “That was a private conversation, Gendry.” He blinked at her, taken aback by the accusation in her tone.

“Sorry,” he said edgily, “Suppose I just have just taken a photo and sent it off to Jeyne Poole, yeah?” Perhaps it wasn’t fair to bring up Sansa’s past indiscretions when she was vulnerable, but it was awfully hypocritical of her to be accusing him of intruding on something private. Her face lost a bit of colour and she swallowed. 

“That… you know I never meant…,” Sansa stammered, and he nodded. 

“I know, you’ve apologized a few thousand times already,” Gendry said. “But that leads into what I wanted to talk to you about. You need to be careful. You’ve seen how easy it is for secrets to get out, even when people mean no harm.” She nodded, her face falling. 

“I’m not ready for everyone to know yet,” she said quietly. 

“I understand,” he said, “I just don’t want Mya to get forced into some spotlight she never asked for and I don’t want you to have to weather a storm before you’re ready. It’s not fun for either party.” She nodded again. 

“I’m not even sure where Mya stands, if I’m honest. We’re just… having some fun, I guess.” Gendry rolled his eyes.

“You know, most problems could be solved if everyone was a bit more honest about their feelings,” he said, remembering Shireen’s gripes about the romance genre. 

“That’s easier said than done,” Sansa said glumly. 

“Yeah, but it’s still gotta be done,” he said. “And I’m not trying to compare being Robert Baratheon’s secret illegitimate son with being a lesbian, because only one of those things is something to be ashamed of,” Sansa managed a smile at this, “But I know from experience that even the cruelest articles aren’t going to change who you are. At the end of the day, your happiness has to matter more than whatever the Post is saying.” She frowned at this, as though she wasn’t sure she could separate her happiness from her public image, but quickly turned it into a smile and thanked him. 

“I’ll talk to Mya,” she said, “I don’t want her to get hurt, either.” 

-

He returned home to find Shireen and Arya chatting over tea, discussing the sheer stupidity of Stannis’ investigators. 

“They had only been looking for white people!” Shireen cried. “I popped in to see if they were making progress and I was like, why is ‘Caucasian’ a defining feature in the search when we have no idea who these kids’ mothers are?” Arya shook her head as Shireen explained this all to Gendry, who didn’t know whether to be amused or furious at this oversight.

-

He drove Mya to the train station in he and Arya’s new car. It was an old, black SUV - something that belonged on a farm - but it drove alright and Gendry found himself looking forward to messing around with the engine when he had the time. 

“Look,” Mya said sharply before they parted, “I know you mean well, and I didn’t want to say anything, but my relationships really aren’t any of your business.” Gendry swallowed. 

“I just don’t -,”

“Want me to get hurt, yeah. Sansa mentioned that a few times.” She looked at him with a slightly softer expression. “I can look after myself, kid. See you soon, yeah?” She hugged him before she left.

-

Shireen’s last night in town was spent on Arya and Gendry’s couch. They had planned to watch a serious, critically acclaimed film, but had been distracted by the corny action movie they had found on TV. It was probably for the best, considering they talked through most of it. They ended up discussing Sansa and Mya, which led Shireen to sigh deeply. 

“Between those two and you guys, I feel like I’m surrounded by plotlines from those romance novels we had to read,” Shireen said, “You have to admit it’s all a bit ridiculous.” 

“It is,” Gendry agreed. “Something about Baratheons and Starks, I guess.” 

“So what’s gonna be your ridiculous romantic storyline, then?” Arya asked slyly, poking at Shireen with her toe. “You got a cute bodyguard or something?” Shireen only rolled her eyes. 

-

“We do sort of have a fairytale story, don’t we?” Arya mused contentedly after Shireen had left. She lay on his chest and he stroked her hair. Both of them were ready for bed but neither wanted to leave the couch - they were far too comfortable. Gendry hummed in agreement. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Sneaking around and having sex in a stable, almost ruining an election campaign - they should make an animated movie about us.” 

“You’re no fun,” she said, shifting so that she was propped up against him. She ran a hand through his hair. “I think we’re cute.” He couldn’t help but smile at her words. 

“I think we’re cute, too.” 

They fell asleep on the couch, but Gendry slept well with Arya’s body tucked tightly against his. He slept so soundly that he didn’t hear his phone ring early the next morning. He would wake up to a voicemail from Stannis’ people about a girl called Bella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! i dont think the next chapter will take as long. xx


	7. Bella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the delay, happy holidays xx. hopefully the next chapter won't take long, but i also got hit by a silly oneshot idea that i might act upon, so who's to say!

The first time Gendry spoke to Bella, it was over the phone on a Friday night. Her voice was quiet, far softer than Mya’s. 

“Hello?” she asked after two rings. 

“Hi. Is this Bella?” Gendry asked. There was a brief hesitation. 

“Yes, that’s me.” 

“This is Gendry. Gendry Waters. I’m not sure if -,”

“It’s actually you!” she cried, letting out a musical sort of laugh as she did so. “I thought when I saw the unknown number it would be another identity confirmation. Hello, Gendry!” Gendry swallowed. 

“Identity confirmation?” He asked. “Who -,” 

“Oh, they’ve been checking up on things for a couple of weeks now. Want to make sure I’m the right Bella Rivers I suppose. But now it’s actually you!” Gendry frowned, but he supposed he should have expected this. Edric had been known to Robert and Mya had been found purely by chance. Bella was the first of Robert’s children that Stannis’ investigators had actually tracked down themselves. 

“It is,” he said, feeling somewhat awkward (though at least he hadn’t been tasked with leaving another voicemail). “Uh... how are you?” Bella laughed, likely at the uncertainty in his tone. 

“I’m actually in the parking lot outside of work,” she said, “My shift starts in five, so I should probably head in. Can I call you tomorrow, Gendry?” 

-

Bella lived in the small city of Stoney Sept, a seedy spot with a rough reputation tucked into a little corner of the Riverlands. She worked nights at a local spot and had dropped out of business school a few years back because “life” happened. Her mum was from the Summer Isles but died when she was a kid - she was sorry to hear that Gendry was also an orphan, as well as Mya. 

“Edric’s still got a mum, though,” Gendry said, “And a dad. He’s got a whole family over in Lys.” 

“Aw, good,” Bella said softly, “I’m glad we’re not all bad luck magnets.” Gendry looked over to see Arya at the kitchen counter, her brow knit as she frowned at the crossword. She had, at some point, hijacked the coffee he had poured for himself. 

“Me too,” he said. He didn’t think he had such bad luck, really. 

Gendry asked when he could head to Stoney Sept to meet Bella properly and to give her the cheque that Robert Baratheon had left for her. “Can I come too?” Arya called. 

“That’s my girlfriend,” Gendry explained over the phone, shaking his head, “She -,” 

“Arya, yeah, I’ve read the papers,” Bella laughed, “The lawyer, right? Of course she should come. Are you two free the weekend after next?” 

-

January carried on, grey and cold and wet. Arya was in an increasingly bad mood due to Sandor Clegane’s continued presence at her office. 

“Apparently he’s providing ‘crucial advice’ on some workplace harassment case that Des is working on,” she snarled over dinner one night, “I suppose he’s protected Joffrey enough times to know what the defendant will try to pull.” 

Gendry felt bad that Arya was forced to see Clegane more, but he was happy to let her air her frustrations each evening, especially when she managed to turn those frustrations into musings about how lucky she was to come home to him. He would roll his eyes and tell her to stop being such a sap and she would see right through him and carry on, overly-affectionate and adorable. 

-

“So, how are things with Sansa?” Gendry asked Mya over the phone. He could practically hear her scowl. 

“There are no_ ‘things’_ with Sansa, Gendry,” she said, a little too sharply to convince him. “We hooked up, it’s not like we’re dating.” 

“Not even secretly?” He asked, deadpan. 

“How’s Edric?” Mya said, ignoring his question completely. “I saw on Instagram that he got some stupid tattoo.” 

-

Edric had indeed posted a photo of his new tattoo. Arya pulled up the image to show Gendry. It was a geometric pair of antlers on his left shoulder, likely in honour of the Baratheon stag sigil (the caption on the post was a quote from some song Gendry had never heard, so he couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure about the tattoo’s meaning). Edric already had a minimalistic drawing of Lys inked along his ribcage and a lightning bolt on his wrist. 

“They’re kinda cool,” Arya said fairly as Gendry raised his eyebrows. He agreed, though he couldn’t help but shake his head at his brother, needlessly shirtless, flexing his bicep and glaring dramatically off into the distance. 

-

The drive from King’s Landing to Stoney Sept was a solid four hours, which allowed Arya and Gendry a chance to get used to the car that Catelyn had so generously given them. The radio worked, but the air vents on the passenger side were faulty, forcing Arya to wear her coat and woolly hat for the first half hour of the journey. 

“So Jaqen doesn’t mind that you’re not available this weekend?” Gendry asked as they turned north onto the Blackwater Expressway. He felt Arya tense up at his words. 

“Does it matter if he did?” she asked bluntly. Gendry shook his head and dropped it, though based on her response, he got the sense that Jaqen was not enthusiastic about Arya spending weekends away from her laptop and their case.

-

Stoney Sept was a small, industrial city that seemed oversaturated by strip malls and dull concrete office blocks. It was colder than the capital and the sky was decidedly grey as Gendry and Arya pulled in behind an old white sedan with a bright pink bumper sticker that said “Girl Power!” on it. Arya smiled.

Bella’s apartment block was a sort of dingy looking spot - it reminded Gendry a little bit of the estate buildings he had grown up in. But if Bella was here due to financial restraints, she would very soon be able to afford to move. He paused before ringing the bell and steeled himself. 

“You’ll be fine,” Arya said, reaching forward to knock at the door. “This one actually _wants_ to meet you.” 

-

Bella was beautiful. Her skin was darker than Gendry’s and her black hair fell in tight curls around her face. Her lips were full and broke into an easy, pleasant smile when she opened the door. Her eyes were the same blue as his own, but they looked electric against her darker complexion. 

“Hi, loves,” she said sweetly as she looked them up and down. She smiled warmly at Arya. “Gosh, you’re taller than you look in the papers!” 

“Right?” Arya insisted, “He makes me look short in photos.” She nodded at Gendry and Bella let out a light laugh and welcomed them in. 

-

The apartment was small and a little dark, but it had a cozy feel to it that seemed in line with Bella’s personality. She was warm and kind and the kettle was already boiling on her stove when Gendry and Arya entered her kitchen. 

Bella sat them down and shook her head, beaming at Gendry. “I can’t believe I’ve got a brother,” she said, “You look so much like our father, Gendry.” He did his best not to frown. 

“I’ve heard that,” he said. Bella smiled at his gruff tone. 

“I knew he was my dad, mum always said so. She was keen to stay quiet about their night together, she only wanted some money to help look after me.” She shook her head in exasperation, but the pure anger that Gendry had seen mirrored in Mya and Edric’s eyes wasn’t present. Bella only shrugged. “Men are dickheads - no offence. You can’t let it ruin your life, right? We moved all over the place ‘til we settled here in Stoney.” She stirred her tea. “I used to watch him on the telly and wonder if he’d ever change his mind and show up at our door and save us from… well, life, I guess.” She shrugged at Gendry and he nodded. He knew what she meant. 

“You sort of remind me of him,” he said honestly. Arya snapped her head to face him and Bella blinked, a sort of bemused smile appearing on her lips now. 

“Really?” Bella asked. 

“He also smiled a lot,” Gendry said. “You do seem like less of a dickhead that he was, though.” She grinned.

-

Bella was like Robert in a few ways. She seemed to lack some of the surliness that Gendry and Mya possessed in spades. Instead, Bella was sort of bubbly, the way Gendry had seen Robert act at campaign events, making every potential donor and supporter feel as though they were the most important person in the room. Bella’s warmth was more honest, though, her face alight with interest as she asked Gendry and Arya about themselves. 

She laughed loudly like Robert did, her eyes crinkling the same way. She seemed to brush off the whole abandonment thing as though it was only a small speed bump in the road of life. Bella had managed to extract the best of their father, Gendry decided. 

“Arya, you’re a lawyer, right?” Bella said, “D’you think I could call you with a few business questions sometime? It’s nothing urgent and I’d pay you once my next paycheque -,” 

“Bella,” Gendry and Arya said at the same time. They looked at each other before each motioned for the other to speak. Bella chuckled and Arya smiled at Gendry before turning back to her. 

“You don’t need to pay me, Bella. Call me anytime. Though you should know I’m only a junior -,” 

“She’s amazing,” Gendry cut in, “And yeah, you don't have to pay, but…” Gendry pulled the envelope from his pocket and set it on the table, “You wouldn’t have to wait for your next paycheque if you did.” Bella eyed the envelope nervously for a moment before picking it up. 

“Thank you,” she breathed, and he could tell that she truly meant it. He nodded and she opened up the envelope. Arya patted his knee lightly and he smiled as he looked around the kitchen, not wanting to make the whole suddenly-in-possession-of-more-money-than-one-can-visualize thing more uncomfortable than it needed to be. There was a messy painting attached to the fridge, held up by a large duck-shaped magnet.

“Seven hells,” Bella cried loudly, somehow sounding both shrill and musical at once. “Is this - _what?_ No, you’re joking, Gendry, there’s no way…,” Arya let out a little laugh. 

“It’s not a mistake, Bella,” she said. “Is it, Gendry?” But Gendry had become distracted by the painting on the fridge and by the protective door lock on the cabinet under the sink and by the sippy cups in the drying rack on the counter. 

“Mummy, are you okay?” A voice said from the doorway, and Gendry snapped his head around to see a tiny figure with raven black curls. The boys eyes were the same shade of blue as his own and they were blinking up at Bella.

“Jack!” Bella cried, standing up and rushing over to pick the boy up. “Ducky, I’m sorry, did I wake you?” The boy nodded, not taking his eyes off of Gendry and Arya. If the wind hadn’t been knocked out of Gendry’s lungs, he might have been amused at the slight suspicion in the child’s gaze, so similar to his own. 

“You screamed,” he said as his mother patted his head. 

“It was a happy scream, ducky,” she smiled apologetically at Gendry, who was still in something of a state of shock. “Jack, this is your Uncle Gendry and, um, Auntie Arya.” Arya grinned at waved at Jack, who offered a tentative smile back. 

“Hi Jack,” Arya said, and the boy waved his own (impossibly small) hand before tucking his head into his mother’s neck, evidently overcome by shyness. Bella walked over to the table and sat down. 

“Jack, Uncle Gendry builds houses,” Bella said softly, coaxing her son’s head off of her shoulder. “D’you want to show him your blocks?” Jack looked over at Gendry. He felt frozen, like his heart might give out, overcome by surprise and warmth and sheer protectiveness and about a thousand other things. 

“I can build a castle,” Jack said. He slid off of his mother’s lap and tottered over to Gendry, wrapping his little hand around his uncle’s finger. “Come on.” 

-

“The dragon can destroy the castle, but it doesn’t want to,” Jack explained.

“Oh,” Gendry said, “well, that’s good.” He had lived with enough foster siblings to be well-versed in babysitting, but this was different. This was his _nephew_. He was an _uncle_. An uncle! And Jack, tiny Jack with his mother’s hair and his mother’s eyes, was smiling at Gendry as he sat by the castle he had built. 

“It’s because I’m his friend.” Jack picked up the dragon toy to show Gendry his friend. “Do you want to be his friend?” Gendry reached out a finger to shake the dragon’s claw, which sent Jack into a fit of laughter. 

“What’s his name?” Gendry asked. Jack frowned. 

“Dragon,” he said, as though this should have been obvious to Gendry. 

-

When it was Arya’s turn to meet Dragon the dragon, Bella sat beside Gendry and smiled. “I’m sorry I hadn’t told you about him,” she said quietly. 

“Hey,” Gendry said, “it’s fair. You want to know that we’re not weirdos before you let us meet your son. It’s good parenting.” Bella smiled and then looked over at Arya and Jack. 

“I named him after his father,” she said. “He turned out to be a proper piece of shit, though.” For the first time, Gendry saw that Bella, too, had indeed inherited some of their father’s temper. Her eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of her ex. 

“Is he causing problems?” Gendry asked, suddenly wrought with concern. “The legal stuff you mentioned - if he’s… We can make sure that you and Jack are safe, Bella, if -,” Bella’s laugh interrupted him. 

“Jack’s dad is in jail, Gendry, don’t you worry. He’s got another fifteen years - attempted murder, armed robbery, you name it, he’s done it. Should’ve known better than to date a white boy. Again, no offence.” 

“None taken,” Gendry said with a smile, feeling slightly (though not entirely) more at ease. 

“He had a tattoo of a gun on his cheek,” she said, shaking her head. “I think I could have used a big brother earlier on in life.” She laughed and he joined her. Arya picked up a stuffed dog toy and introduced it to Dragon. Jack took her by the hand and walked her over to his toy basket, where he showed her all of Dragon’s other friends.

-

“You two staying in town?” Bella asked. “Because you shouldn’t.” 

“We’ve got a room at the Threepenny Hotel,” Gendry said hesitantly, and Bella made a face. 

“Gendry, no. Do not take your girlfriend to the Threepenny,” she pulled out her phone. “There’s a B&B about an hour out of town, it’s supposed to be properly cute. It’s closer to Riverrun than Stoney, but it’ll be worth the drive. Ah, this one - I’ll text you the link.” 

-

Bella had to be at work for six o’clock, so little Jack was sent next door to stay with a kindly old lady who also called him “Ducky”, Bella got into her white sedan with the pink bumper sticker, and Gendry and Arya pulled away after her. They were going to see Bella and Jack tomorrow before they returned to King’s Landing, and Jack was eager to show his uncle his favourite slide at the nearby park. “But you’re too big for it,” he announced, “so you can just catch me.” 

Gendry could feel Arya’s eyes on him as they pulled up to a red light. 

“What?” he said after a beat, looking over at her. Her eyes were shining a little bit and she was smiling.

“Nothing,” she said. The car behind them honked, forcing Gendry to tear his eyes from Arya’s and turn the corner. “Bella’s nice.”

“She is,” Gendry nodded. “She’s a little bit more gentle than the rest of us, I think.” Arya hummed thoughtfully. 

“You’re gentle,” she said after a moment. She was still looking at him funny. 

“Stop it,” Gendry insisted, “I’m trying to focus on the road.” He caught her smiling out of the corner of his eye and he couldn’t help but smile too. 

-

“Bella forced me to cancel our hotel reservation, by the way,” Gendry said as he slid into the passenger seat after filling up the tank. Arya raised an eyebrow as she started the car. “She insisted we book some bed and breakfast place up outside of Riverrun.”

“_Riverrun?_” Arya said. “Alright. I’ll trust you two. But if we’re driving all the way to Riverrun, we’re getting snacks first.” 

“Deal.” 

-

The oncoming dusk and the beginnings of a rainfall cast the city of Stoney Sept in a dull haze as Arya pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall. There were no spots outside of the grocery store, so she wheeled around to park in front of - 

“Ooh, a strip club!” Arya said, looking up at the bright sign advertising The Peach, complete with the outline of a woman’s body in neon orange flashing above their dashboard. 

They crossed the lot to the grocery store, Gendry stepping aside to allow a lady with a stroller to exit before he held the door for Arya. She looked up at him as he entered, the same shining expression on her face as before. 

“What?” he asked, bemused. 

“_What?_” Arya mocked, mimicking his voice. “You know exactly what. Smiling at that baby in the stroller, shaking Jack’s dragon’s hand, being all… you know.” Gendry felt his neck heat up as his face broke into an automatic smile. 

“Being all _what_?” Arya rolled her eyes at his question and picked up a packet of Penguin bars. “Arya, what am I being?” He felt light inside, a little giddy. 

“Handsome,” she said after a moment, smiling up at him. “You’re cute when you’re around babies. It makes me feel all stupid. Happy?” Yes, he was. More than any other person on the planet, probably. 

“You were cute with Jack, too,” he said, still smiling as he grabbed up a bag of cheesies from the top shelf and followed her to the cash register, where she picked up a pack of gum. Gendry wondered for a moment if it would be remotely acceptable to ask Arya to marry him in a grocery store. He had the ring with him, tucked away in his wallet… It would be utterly stupid, but surely that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he loved her and that she somehow looked radiant even under the ugly fluorescent lighting and that he wanted to ask her - officially - if she would spend her life with him. He already knew the answer, really. 

“Put that away, I’ve already paid,” Arya said, shaking her head at him as he took his wallet out.

\- 

“We’d have good looking kids I think,” Arya mused as they started towards the car. 

“I hope they take after their mother,” he said honestly. “Carry on those noble Stark genes.” 

“I’m pretty fond of the Baratheon blue eyes,” Arya said with a wry smile. “Though I suppose they won’t be Baratheons.” 

“Hm?” 

“I mean, I assumed that wouldn’t be the surname you’d give them,” she shrugged. “I figured your mum’s name -,”

“Oh,” Gendry said, “yeah, definitely. But wouldn’t you want to keep ‘Stark’?” 

“Yeah, I would I think. Maybe we can add a hyphen or something,” she said casually, “We can sort that out when we get married.” _When._ She said it so carelessly, as if it had already been decided. Which, of course, it had - they had just never said so out loud. 

“And when will that be?” he asked, tucking his hands into his pockets. There were probably more romantic places to propose to the love of your life that the damp parking lot outside of a strip club. The rain was still light as the sky darkened and The Peach’s neon sign illuminated Arya’s face as she unlocked the car and smiled at him. 

“Whenever you get around to asking me,” she said.

“And if I were to ask...,” Gendry said, trailing off as he tried to gauge her reaction. She stopped walking and gave him a skeptical look. 

“You’re supposed to have a _ring_ for that bit, Gendry,” she said. Her voice was almost smug, as if she had won, as if she was certain that he had not yet picked out a ring. 

Really, he probably should have played along. He should have feigned defeat and let her have this round. He could have proposed to her at home, on their little balcony with all of their plants (or, at least, the ones that survived through winter). He could have planned it all out, with candles and champagne and flowers. But he didn’t get the opportunity to catch Arya so off guard very often. It was impossible to resist. 

“Maybe I have got a ring,” he retorted, failing to stifle a grin. Her lips parted in surprise and her eyes went a little wide. It was perfect. An uncontestable victory for Gendry. 

A car swung towards them, stopping to back up into a free parking spot and shining headlights right at them. Gendry frowned and put a hand up, squinting. The lights of the car had lit Arya up, along with their car and the white sedan beside them, which had a bright pink bumper sticker. 

“What’s Bella doing here?” Gendry said, lowering his hand as the driver turned the car off and the headlights went out. Arya was staring at him, her eyes still wide. 

“What?” 

“Bella,” Gendry repeated, pointing at the car. Arya blinked at him before turning to look at Bella’s sedan. “She said she had work tonight.” 

“Oh,” Arya said. Gendry looked over at the surrounding stores. 

“Maybe she works in that liquor store,” Gendry said, squinting over at the seedy looking off license - the clerk looked like an older man, but Bella might have been working in the back. But Arya was looking at the stall in which Bella had parked and was worrying her lip. 

“Maybe,” she said, “We should probably go, though, if we’re going to make it up to this inn at a reasonable hour.” She reached for his hand to pull him toward their car, but he was frozen to the spot, re-reading the sign in front of Bella’s car. 

_ **The Peach Gentleman’s Club: Staff Parking Only. All violators will be towed.** _

“Gendry,” Arya hissed, tugging at his arm. “Leave it, come on.” He pulled his arm away and began to walk quickly, Arya hurrying after him. “Gendry! It’s none of your business!” 

“She’s my sister,” he growled, approaching the front door, where a group of greasy looking men a few years his senior were filing into the establishment. He sped up, but Arya was quicker, slipping in front of him and shoving him in the chest, stopping him. 

“Gendry,” she said, a stern finger pointed up at him, “don’t you dare.” He took a breath. 

“She’s my sister,” he said, as calmly as he could manage. 

“She is her own person and I am not letting you go in there and -,” 

“Arya,” he said, and he found that his voice had more of an edge to it now as they glared at each other. “She’s my little sister. You saw the guys that just went in there, you heard her earlier, asking for legal help, saying she wouldn’t be able to pay right away.” He gave her a desperate look and her eyes softened. “You know what type of guys run these clubs. What if she needs help?”

“We don’t go in guns blazing,” Arya said firmly. “We don’t even have to speak to her, alright? We’ll just check the place out and make sure that it’s not sketchy. Deal?”

“Fine,” he said, and he walked past her towards the door. 

-

The bouncer at the door snorted as they approached. 

“Date night?” he asked. He checked their cards and gave Gendry a pat down before letting them in. 

-

Gendry had never actually been into a strip club before. He had managed to duck away from Theon’s clutches on the night of Robb’s bachelor party, which had been the only time he might have come close to one. 

The Peach was dark inside, most of the lights hanging over the stages where a few girls were dancing to a slow R&B song. It was surprisingly clean. There wasn’t a huge crowd, though Gendry figured that strip clubs likely weren’t often at their busiest before 7pm. He glanced around, looking for Bella. 

“Hi handsome,” a silky voice greeted him. A pretty blonde with a pixie cut strode towards them. She wore a silver bikini and cowboy boots. “You looking for anyone in particular?” She noticed Arya and beamed. “Oh, are you here about the auditions? Our manager’s in tonight, we could probably -,”

“We’re _not_ here about an audition,” Gendry said through gritted teeth. Gods help him. “We’re just…,” 

“Here for a show!” Arya said cheerily, latching onto Gendry’s elbow. “We can’t wait.” 

-

“What are we doing?” Gendry asked as Arya sat him down in a dark corner. 

“You said you wanted to check the place out, so we’re checking the place out,” Arya said. “We can make sure it’s safe and Bella doesn’t even have to know we’re here.” Gendry shook his head and sighed. 

“I think I need a drink.” 

-

Gendry didn’t have a problem with strip clubs, really. It wasn’t his business how Bella earned her money. Besides, no matter how uncomfortable the thought of Bella in a place like the Peach made him, there was nothing _wrong_ with being a stripper. Arya had defended enough women in the field for him to understand that. 

Gendry _did_ have a problem with the type of guys who ran strip clubs and exploited girls as pretty and as kind as Bella. 

He also had a problem with the type of guys who went to strip clubs and the thought of them leering at his little sister. Or, apparently, his girlfriend. 

“See, there he is now,” Arya was saying, sounding bored and annoyed as Gendry approached with their drinks. The man talking to her looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at Gendry. He stood up straight - he was only a couple of inches shorter than Gendry. 

“Hey pal,” the guy grinned. He looked and sounded very drunk. “Why’d you bring your girlfriend to a place like this? She gonna get up there?” He nodded at the stage. 

Gendry slid Arya her beer and looked at her. She was scowling. 

“Go back to your friends,” Gendry said bluntly, nodding over at the sleazy looking group of guys watching them from a nearby booth. 

“I’m only asking,” the man said, raising his hands up to show his innocence. “It’s a compliment, isn’t it, love?” He raised his chin at Arya and Gendry set his beer down. Arya met Gendry’s eyes for a moment and gave him a look that told him not to do anything. She was right - they were here for Bella, not for this idiot. He thought about the calm breathing methods his meditation tapes told him to practice and he exhaled slowly.

“Just move on, mate,” Gendry said calmly, patting the man on the shoulder and moving past him to Arya’s side. 

“Get your hands off me,” the guy said, shoving Gendry’s chest hard (though not hard enough to move him). Gendry looked at Arya, who shrugged and smiled. 

(It’s not that she owned him, really - well, she did, but that’s not the point. He liked that they could have these conversations with just a look. It was nice to know that she fully approved of what he did next.)

“Whoa,” the guy cried as Gendry grabbed him by his collar and pulled his face close. 

“Go back to your friends.” Gendry spoke slowly, leaving space between each work to ensure that he was understood. The spit landed on his cheek and he let go of the collar as his face wrinkled with disgust. He shoved the other man away before wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. 

“Hey!” Arya said, shooting up out of her seat. Gendry looked at her, about to tell her to sit back down, but he was interrupted by a fist colliding with his left cheekbone

His head spun briefly and he blinked, aware that Arya had yelled something at the guy. Gendry regained his senses and stood upright. A lot of things happened in a short amount of time. Gendry grabbed the guy that had punched him and hit him so hard in the gut that he doubled over. The guy then ran forward to attempt to tackle Gendry, and they ended up in a sort of aggressive bear hug. 

Arya stepped around them to meet his opponent’s friends, who had rushed over to join in. She smashed her beer bottle against the table and held it by the neck in front of her, daring one of them to step forward. Gendry became briefly distracted by this scene, stopping to think about how much he wanted to marry her, about how he should definitely ask her as soon as he was finished with this creep (this momentary distraction led to him receiving a fist to the stomach, which he countered with a hook to the chin that knocked the guy sideways).

It was then that the bouncers arrived, accompanied by a very angry looking Bella, who had her arms folded across her chest. Arya set her jagged bottle down and the bouncers began grabbing the men, ushering towards the door. One of them put a solid hand on Gendry’s shoulder.

“Out,” Bella’s musical voice was sharp now, “Get out.” Surely he wasn’t about to get kicked out of a bar by _another_ sister. 

-

He didn’t, miraculously. Instead, he ended up in the manager’s office, tucked into the back area of The Peach. Bella sat at the desk, shaking her head. 

“I think he’s concussed,” Bella said. She was wearing a little cropped t-shirt and shorts overtop tights. Her makeup was heavier than it had been earlier in the day. She crossed her arms and looked at Gendry.

“I’m not concussed,” Gendry said as Arya said “He might be.” 

“I’m not concussed!” He insisted again. 

“Concussed or not, you’re gonna have a nice shiner tomorrow,” Bella said, wincing slightly at his face, “Jack might be scared of you.” Gendry must have looked concerned because Bella snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’m only joking.” 

“Bella, I’m really sorry,” he started. His sister raised a carefully sculpted eyebrow.

“For what? Following me to work? Or for starting a fight in my club?” 

“We didn’t follow you!” Arya piped in. “We were getting snacks and then we noticed your car and Gendry…,” Bella smiled knowingly as Arya made a face. “Bella,” Arya continued, “When you say _your_ club…,” 

“I run this place,” Bella said proudly, “Stoney’s only strip club operated by a woman. Everyone’s welcome, unless they’re going to start a fight,” she glanced at Gendry. “Can you get him some ice?” She asked the bouncer, who slipped from the room. “I’ve been having some issues with my landlord raising rent - I don’t want to cut anyone’s wages, so I’ve been struggling a bit of late and I’ve been trying to figure out the legality of these sudden increases.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Arya said, “I’m sure he’s trying -,” Bella waved her away.

“You’re sweet,” she said with a genuinely fondness. “I hadn’t realized how much dad left me. I can buy the whole block if I want to, though I think I’ll just start with the building.” Arya grinned at Bella as the bouncer returned with an ice pack for Gendry, who slapped it onto his eye. 

“I didn’t start the fight,” Gendry grumbled. 

“He didn’t,” Arya corroborated, “But we still probably shouldn’t have reacted.” Bella shrugged. 

“I hate that lot,” she said, “Always making slimy comments at my girls. I’ve been looking for an excuse to ban them for ages now. Maybe I should be thanking you two.” There was a pause and Gendry couldn’t help but ask the question.

“Do you, uh,” He couldn’t think of the right word, “...dance?” Arya made a little noise of exasperation and Bella snorted. 

“Sometimes,” she said, and there was a hint of a challenge in her tone, “The business side of things takes up a lot of time, but I still perform when I can.” Gendry considered this. 

“You like it, yeah?” He asked. Bella nodded. “Good.” 

-

Bella gave them directions to the nearest clinic and told Arya that if she ever wanted to come for classes there would always be a spot for her. 

“You’re a little shorter than most of my girls, but you’ve got the right attitude.” Arya beamed and Gendry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “See you two tomorrow!”

-

“Doesn’t seem to be a concussion,” the elderly nurse said, clicking off her flashlight and writing a note on her clipboard. She had asked him a series of questions, touched a few sensitive spots on his neck and head, and had made him do some tests with his pupils. He felt fine, really, aside from the bruise he could feel forming around his eye. “Just keep icing it and try to take it easy. No more bar fights, alright?” Her eyes were stern as she cracked a fresh ice pack and handed it to him. She turned to Arya. “You keep an eye on him, dear.”

Arya nodded and rolled her eyes at him as he slapped the icepack to his face, but there was a fondness in her expression that warmed his stupid heart. For the fourth time in only a couple of hours, he decided to ask her to marry him. Like the grocery shop and the parking lot and the strip club, this 24 hour clinic on the north side of Stoney Sept’s city center wasn’t exactly a romantic setting, but Gendry felt romantic - he couldn’t help it. He felt totally in love and he didn’t really care about anything else. 

“Hmm,” the nurse said, eyeing him carefully. “You do look a little bit dazed.” Gendry sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” he said, standing up. “Thank you.” 

-

He thought about the ring again when they pulled into a drive-thru for dinner and she asked them to go easy on the salt when they made his fries. 

-

And again when she used her thumb to wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of her lips, one hand on the steering wheel as she drove them north through the rain. “Can you pass me a piece of that gum?” she asked. 

-

She was thinking about something, too, it seemed. She kept biting her lip and appeared determined not to look over at him. 

“You alright?” Gendry asked, lowering his ice pack and checking his reflection in the mirror. His left eye was swollen, with deep reddish-purple marks forming around it. 

“Yep,” Arya said shortly. In other words, no. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, though he thought he might know. “Look, you were right about not going into the club. We should have left it, I just -,”

“I don’t care about that, Gendry,” Arya scoffed, “I wanted to make sure it was alright, too.” 

“Then what’s up?” Gendry said. “Is this about me getting annoyed that everyone kept telling you to be a stripper? Because that’s not -,”

“Seven hells,” Arya cut him off again, and he was pleased to hear the laughter in her voice. “You don’t have to explain that, Gendry. You’re allowed to be a bit of a jealous idiot sometimes. It’s cute.” 

“Oh,” he said. He was still confused, but relieved that she was smiling now. “Then what -,”

Arya interrupted him once more with a loud sigh that almost became a groan. “It’s stupid,” she said. They were turning off of the main motorway now, along a smaller road towards their destination. 

“And my guesses weren’t?” He laughed. She was silent for a minute or two. 

“Earlier tonight,” she started, sounding a little unsure of herself. “When you said you…,” she hesitated. “Have you actually got a ring?” _Oh._

“Yeah,” he said. “Why would I lie about that?” 

“Oh,” Arya replied quietly. He glanced over at her and grinned as she tried to bite back the smile on her lips. Her cheeks had gone all rosy. They carried on in silence for another few minutes, both smiling.

“I was gonna ask you in that shop,” he said. “When you were talking about kids and stuff.” Her smile grew a bit. “And then in the parking lot when I mentioned the ring, but then I noticed Bella’s car and… yeah. And when you broke that bottle in The Peach, I almost asked you in the middle of everything.” 

“I don’t think my mother could stomach the thought of me getting engaged in a strip club.” Her voice was breathy and quiet. 

“No, probably not,” he agreed. “Same with the clinic, it’s probably for the best that the nurse interrupted that train of thought.” Arya nodded. 

“I wouldn’t have minded,” she said. “You could ask me anywhere and I’d probably think it romantic.” 

“‘I’ll keep that in mind,” Gendry smiled. Arya frowned. 

“_Seriously?_” Arya asked. “You’ll ‘keep that in mind’? Gendry, just - oh, is this it?” The headlights illuminated a little wooden sign that read _Acorn Hall_. There was a little attachment on the bottom that added _Bed and Breakfast_. 

“Yeah, that’s us,” he said, as Arya turned the car up the dark little lane. “I’m not asking you while you’re driving, though, if that’s what you were going to suggest.” 

“Why not?” She demanded, squinting through the windshield for any sign of a building. Gendry stared at her.

“Why am I not going to propose to you as you drive through a dark forest in the middle of nowhere while it’s pouring rain?” He asked, half annoyed and half amused. Arya shrugged. “I mean, I’d sort of like to see your face properly. And I think I’ll want to kiss you pretty much immediately after you give me your answer.” 

“Stupid,” Arya said. “Just ask me.”

“Not while you’re driving.” 

“Fine,” Arya pouted, and they rounded a bend and finally arrived at Acorn Hall.

There were only a few lights on, but the house seemed surprisingly large to Gendry. It was small compared to Winterfell, but it did have the air of an old manor, with a fountain in the middle of the front drive and vines crawling up the side of the building. 

Arya put the car in park and folded her arms as Gendry pulled the little velvet bag out of his wallet. 

“Arya,” he said, and she looked over at him. Her eyes shone with a mix of impatience and annoyance and excitement and adoration. “Will you marry -,”

But he never actually got to specify that it was he who she had just consented to marry, because Arya let out a little “Yes,” and tugged at Gendry’s shirt to capture his lips with hers, pulling him across the center console. Gendry didn’t resist. He moved his free hand to cup her face and he sighed against her as she traced her fingers through his hair. Arya broke away almost reluctantly and looked down at his other hand, still holding the little bag. 

“Sorry,” she breathed as she rested her forehead against his. Gendry shook his head and kissed her again, softer than before. He pulled the ring out and very nearly began to apologize how small the diamond was and explain that if she wanted, there was a beautiful family heirloom up in Winterfell that she could wear instead. But he didn’t, because her eyes lit up and she nodded and held out her hand for him. He slipped it onto her finger and their lips met again. 

They probably could have sat there all night, kissing in the front seat of their car, but a stray elbow hit the horn as Gendry attempted to move Arya over to his lap and they both froze before pulling away and laughing. The light at the front of the house turned on and they remembered that they had booked accommodations - as appealing as their current state was, they might as well sleep in the bed that they had paid for. 

-

The rain was so heavy that they were wet by the time they reached the front door, ushered in by a stern looking woman with greying hair. 

“Waters?” She asked, and Gendry nodded, raindrops falling from his hair as he did so. “I was worried about you two. Thought I might have to get in the truck and try to track you down out there. Trouble finding the place?” Gendry shook his head and she looked at him properly. “Seven hells, son, what happened to you?” 

“We got held up in town,” Arya smiled, “Sorry that we’re a bit late.” The lady looked between them. They were dripping wet and both absolutely beaming. 

“Not a bother,” she said kindly. “Have you eaten?” 

“Yeah,” Gendry said, watching her pop behind a little desk and rummage through a few papers. “Don’t worry about us.” 

“Here we go,” she said with a smile as she held up a key. “Follow me.” 

-

“If you need anything just let me know. The kitchen has some fresh bread and homemade jam if you two need a midnight snack,” the lady - who had introduced herself as Ravella - smiled as she shut the door behind them. The room was both spacious and cozy, with a big window overlooking the back of the property and beautiful old furniture. Of course, Gendry didn’t notice this until the following morning. Right then, he only had eyes for Arya, who was smiling at the ring on her finger. 

She really was beautiful. She looked up and smiled even wider. 

“You look awful,” she laughed, stepping forward and grabbing his hand. She marched him in front of the mirror, where he got a good look at the black eye that was forming around his half-shut eye. She was right, probably - he did look awful - but he liked the sight of Arya’s body tucked against his, her hand holding his. He traced the ring with his thumb and she turned to look up at him. 

“Sansa and your mum are gonna have my head for proposing to you in a car after dragging you into a fight at a strip club,” he said.

“They’ll have my head for practically demanding that you do it, too. But I don’t care what they think,” Arya replied, her eyes sparkling. 

“Good,” he said, and he kissed her.

-

He kissed her lips and her cheeks and her sharp Stark nose. She clutched his hair as he kissed down her neck to her shoulders and her chest. He kissed her long-healed ribs and her bare stomach and her hipbone and her thighs. 

-

“I think this is the best day of my life,” Gendry said softly, running a hand through Arya’s hair as she lay on his chest. She snorted. 

“You got punched in the face.” 

“No, I mean it,” Gendry chuckled. “I’m an uncle. We’re getting married. It’s like…,” he couldn’t find the words. Arya looked at the ring on her finger fondly. 

“I know,” she said, leaving a light kiss against his collarbone. He felt like one of those lucky people with a real family - a big, happy, messy one. 

-

He texted Catelyn before he fell asleep. He had already broken one promise to her - he wanted to make good on this one.

-

Gendry was awoken by a pillow colliding with his face. He grumbled and blinked, rubbing his eyes to see a very annoyed looking Arya staring down at him. 

“You asked my mother for permission?” She snapped. 

“Huh?” Gendry said, failing to stifle a yawn as he sat up. 

“My mum texted me and said you already told her,” Arya carried on, pulling up the offending texts, “and that she’s ‘glad he didn’t wait too long’.” Gendry flopped back down and let out a laugh. 

“You really think I asked for _permission_ to marry you?” He said, raising an eyebrow at her narrowed eyes. “Arya, I’m hurt.”

“How’d she know?” Arya asked, still cold. Gendry sighed.

“At Christmas when I went to thank her for inviting Mya, she thought I was there to ask for her… blessing or whatever.” Arya made a face. “She gave it to me, by the way, and offered me some ring that would probably dislocate your shoulder if you wore it.” Gendry reached out for her hand and ran his thumb across the little gold ring. “It’s far nicer than this, but she took back the offer as soon as I said that I’d already found one.” 

“Oh,” Arya said, lacing her fingers through hers. “I like this one better.” Gendry nodded. 

“She made me promise to tell her when I asked, though. Figured I could do that much for her.” Arya moved to lay with him, tucking her body into his. They sat in peace for a moment before Arya sighed.

“Everyone’s going to be so annoying about this.” 

“I know,” Gendry said dully, “We should just go to city hall.” He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth - he wasn’t exactly hitting all of the romantic marks this weekend. Arya only laughed. 

“I’d marry you anywhere,” she said. She kissed his collarbone and he glanced over her head at the clock by the bed. 

“What time did she say breakfast was at?” 

“Nine,” Arya breathed, brushing another light kiss against his neck and tracing her hand down his bare chest. “We’ve got time.” 

-

They were both rather hungry when they sat down for breakfast. Ravella had stocked the dining room table with just about everything they could ever want - Gendry’s stomach lurched with excitement as he sat down. Arya went straight for the scrambled eggs as Gendry helped himself to a warm slice of sourdough. Ravella came in with a pot of tea as they tucked in.

“Is no one else staying here?” Gendry asked, spreading some marmalade on his toast. The old lady shook her head. 

“It’s a quiet spot,” she explained. “It wasn’t always an inn, but after Theo - my husband - passed and our Carrie went off to school it felt a little lonely. And a few extra crowns never hurts, does it?” 

“It’s lovely,” Arya said, looking around the room. “It reminds me of where I grew up.” Gendry agreed, though Acorn Hall was not quite as grand as Winterfell. It was smaller, and the woods that surrounded the property made it feel rather cozy. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Ravella agreed, looking happily out the window at the rain soaked grounds. “This place has always felt a little magical to me.” 

-

The grounds were wet from the previous night’s rain, but Ravella loaned them each a pair of rainboots for the morning as they traipsed through the woods and came upon a little creek that Arya thought was likely a tributary of the Red Fork. 

Gendry liked how the tentative sunlight glinted off the remaining drops of water, and the way the tree-covered hills appeared almost misty as the water evaporated. The air tasted better here than it did in the city. 

Arya kissed him under the arching branches of a fir tree and told him that she would marry him right there and then if they didn’t have to be in Stoney Sept within the hour. 

-

Arya insisted that Gendry take five minutes to do his meditation while she brought their bags down and loaded up the car. He rolled his eyes but the look she gave him in return was so stern that he acquiesced with an only semi-sarcastic “Yes, dear.” 

-

Gendry bid farewell to Ravella as he handed back their roomkey. 

“We’ll be back,” he promised. He meant it, too. Barely over twelve hours was not enough to have spent in such a pleasant spot. Ravella smiled and looked out the open front door with a slight frown. Gendry followed her gaze to see that Arya had found herself a cat and was crouched low so that she could have a conversation with it. 

“He usually hates people, old Marcher,” the lady laughed as the old grey cat nuzzled his head against Arya’s hand. “I guess she’s just special.” Gendry nodded. 

-

“Stop looking at me like that,” Arya snapped. “Focus on the road.” Gendry did as she commanded, smiling at the windshield. 

She let him wind his fingers through hers as he drove, though, and didn’t complain when he brought their hands up so that he could kiss the back of hers. 

-

“Gods, you look awful,” Bella said, wincing at Gendry’s face as he and Arya found them at the park. She wasn’t wrong - the bruise around his eye was an ugly blend of purple and red and black. “Ducky, come say hi to Uncle Gendry.” Little Jack abandoned the pretend motorcycle he was attempting to climb and waddled over. 

“Hey, Jack!” Gendry said, dropping onto one knee and reaching out a hand in hopes of receiving a high five. Jack frowned at him as he tentatively slapped Gendry’s hand. He looked up to his mother. 

“What happened to him?” 

“Your uncle is silly, dear. Next time you see him he won’t look so purple.” Jack looked back at Gendry and seemed to decide that he could accept this bruised version for now. 

“Let me show you the bike,” Jack said, leading Gendry over to the bouncy plastic motorcycle. 

-

“I also have a motorbike,” Gendry told Jack as he hovered at the boy’s side, letting him rock back and forth on the bike. 

“Is it as fast as mine?” Jack asked, not breaking his rhythm. Gendry shook his head. “Can I play on it?” 

“Maybe!” Gendry laughed. Internally, he suddenly understood every single misgiving Catelyn Stark had ever had about his motorbike. 

-

“When can we see you two again?” Gendry asked Bella. Arya was now holding Jack up so that he could try out the monkey bars. Bella shrugged. 

“Depends,” she said. “When’s the wedding?” She grinned at the look of surprise that appeared on Gendry’s face. “Arya definitely wasn’t wearing that ring yesterday. How’d you ask her?” 

“Er,” Gendry started, “I sort of let slip that I had a ring and then she insisted that I ask her, so I waited ‘til the car was parked and then I did. It wasn’t exactly something out of a movie.” Bella gave him a pitying look. 

“You’re lucky you’re handsome, Gendry.” 

“She’s just as much to blame,” he grumbled. 

“Yeah, and she’s lucky she’s cute,” Bella laughed. “Maybe Jack and I could come visit you sometime. If Edric or Mya are ever in the city I’d love to meet them.” Gendry grinned and nodded. 

-

Bella told him about how excited she was to buy The Peach properly, to rid herself of her overbearing landlord. Gendry insisted that she call Arya if there was any further trouble, which Bella admitted that she appreciated. She wasn’t as closed off and suspicious as himself and Mya - Bella seemed like the type of person who would readily offer and accept help, simply because kindness made sense to her. 

She was neither a smoker nor a heavy drinker, but she promised to see a doctor to make sure there were no early warning signs of illness. 

Gendry asked for Jack’s birthday and he promised to send a gift. 

-

Gendry felt a little gutted as he bid farewell to his nephew. Jack asked if he and Arya would come see him again, which caused them both to choke out desperate insistences that they would indeed be back. 

-

“I can’t believe you’re an uncle before I’m an aunt,” Arya said as they wound their way through Stoney Sept towards the main motorway. “Robb and Jeyne should have got things going quicker.” Gendry laughed at that. 

“Hey,” he said. “We’re getting married. My family’s your family now - so we can call this a draw.” Her eyes shone as she smiled over at him and he forced himself to focus on the road instead of on Arya.


	8. The Seaworths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, i was busy second guessing myself and thinking about how much i want to please everyone and trying to come to terms with the fact that that's not possible, ever!
> 
> (also, i realized that my plot notes for this chapter were completely stupid, hence the absolute lack of cohesiveness)  
(also... life's weird right now, right? global health crises suck and i hope you're all doing okay 💕)
> 
> this chapter stretches all the way from february until may, which sounds like like a long time! but it's actually a whole month shorter than the time it took me to write it, haha. yikes!
> 
> it features:  
\- some birthdays!  
\- some lesbians!  
\- some fighting!  
\- a lot of soft bits because i'm a sap  
\- an uncomfortable interaction, but not a violent or graphic one in any way, dw!
> 
> i love you guys, thank you for being nice to me. every time i read a comment i'm like :'( and :')

Gendry had always liked to make stuff. His mother had never been able to afford the fancy Lego play sets, the ones that created complex castles or spaceships from movies, so he made do with the basics, building simple little houses and towers out of the multicoloured blocks. 

When his mum died, he took his legos with him to his foster homes, though he lost a few pieces here and there to temporary siblings and the constant shuffle of his preteen years. When he had gone to live with the Seaworths, he got to attend a half decent school, where they offered art classes and trades. He liked the sculpting units and the welding classes and the bits of the maths and physics classes that helped him think about structure and support and permanence. He liked sketching out his ideas alright, but he preferred to build them. 

He had been in his final year of school when he had fucked it all up and got himself arrested. He had been lucky, really, that Senator Stark’s push for more lenient treatment of underage criminals had resulted in changes in legislation. He had gotten a slap on the wrist and a few hours of community service, which he spent on municipal construction sites. The real punishment had been leaving the Seaworths and landing himself in a home for troubled young men. 

It was there that he decided to do something useful with his life. Gendry had lived in many homes, all of them working class and far from fancy. Most of his foster homes had been in or around Flea Bottom, but he knew the rest of the city well. He had seen, from a distance, how the upper class lived, how King’s Landing’s elite spent their days, flitting from their clean, marble buildings into their expensive cars, occasionally driving through the slums - but never stopping. He tried not to resent them (though in truth, he did) and instead channel his distaste into motivation to inject some sort of affordability or functionality into the neighbourhood in which he lived. 

He got the grades, and he had more than enough “troubled orphan who’s learned his lesson” fodder for the entrance interviews, and he promised himself he would work as hard as he could to turn his degree into something that mattered. He was going to help make King’s Landing a better place for everyone, help make Fleabottom liveable without pricing out its residents. He wanted to build houses that were homes, not dingy flats owned by seedy landlords. 

He felt torn now, sitting in front of his fancy computer in a high rise office. 

He wasn’t doing anything to help King’s Landing from his desk as he flipped through the spec sheet of an overpriced development by the river. Nothing he had done since starting at the firm had felt useful to him, really. He knew Arya felt the same, though she didn’t like to make him feel bad by saying so. 

Gendry knew he could quit - he had enough money in the bank to never work another day in his life. He could walk away today and start his own firm and do only what he wanted to do, with no risk of failure because the funds, for all intents and purposes, were infinite. But was that what he wanted? To use his daddy’s money to fund his little business endeavors? 

He grimaced and flipped the page, making a note about irrigation options for the green space that would accompany the ultramodern, overpriced condominiums that the spec sheet outlined. 

-

He felt a bit better that evening, when Bella sent him, Edric, and Mya a photo of Jack playing with the building blocks Gendry had given him. He had never been one to splurge, but that was before he had a nephew to buy gifts for - there seemed to be toy stores everywhere he turned these days. 

Mya replied with a heart-shaped emoji and spent a little over half an hour typing out a one-sentence suggestion that they could get a drink together for her birthday at the end of the month when she was in the city. Edric immediately promised to fly himself over and Bella insisted that she would book the weekend off of work. Gendry reminded them all that they shouldn’t be drinking too much, which prompted Edric to dub him “Mother Hendry”. 

Gendry smiled at his screen in a way that made Arya snort as she tucked herself in beside him on the couch to watch Flea Bottom F.C. attempt to avoid relegation. She was asleep on his knee by the end of the first half, but her quiet, slow breathing helped to ease the pain of a rather embarrassing 3-0 defeat. 

-

They hadn’t told many people about the engagement. Their siblings, of course, were all thrilled - Jon called them a day after they sent the text, offering to walk Arya down the aisle. Gendry could have sworn that her bottom lip quivered as she nodded. Sansa had started making lists of potential venues, which Arya only groaned at. They had only been engaged a few weeks, Arya insisted, there was no rush to plan out every detail of the wedding. Gendry agreed, though Mya had already asked him to send her the date as soon as possible, so she could be sure to book a whole week off of work. 

Tom and Anguy were more concerned with the stag night than anything else, and Mycah and Lanna had already started sending Arya links to wedding dresses. 

“I love the idea of marrying you,” Arya said one evening as she put her toothbrush away and touched the ring on her finger, “But all of this wedding talk is already killing me and only a dozen people know about it.” It was a relief to hear that she shared his feelings towards the whole thing.

“Is this your way of calling it off?” Gendry asked after he spit into the sink, grinning at the look of annoyance her reflection shot him from the mirror. He wiped his mouth and moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and tucking his head in beside hers. He lifted a hand to touch the ring himself and glanced into the mirror again, meeting her soft eyes and returning her smile. “We’ll suffer through it together.” He kissed the place where her neck met her shoulder, watching the reflection of her eyes flutter shut. 

“We’ll have to think up somewhere good for the honeymoon,” she murmured, “Where no one can bother us for a good week or two.” He kissed her jaw before smiling into her hair. He liked the sound of that. 

-

They had never really been Valentine’s Day people. Gendry would usually buy flowers, if he could find a nice bouquet, and Arya could often be counted on to bring home some chocolates, and they were always keen to use it as an excuse to spend the evening wrapped up in each other - but they never went out of their way to make any excessively romantic plans. 

This year, Bella had asked Gendry about his plans for Valentine’s Day, to which he responded with “not much”. This resulted in a phone call from his sister, a lecture about treating Arya like a goddess, and a list of things he should do to show his _fiancée_ that she is everything he has ever wanted. Gendry had rolled his eyes half a dozen times during Bella’s tirade, but he hung up the phone having begrudgingly accepted that perhaps it would be nice for Arya to come home to something beyond some flowers and his eager self. 

So he decided to make her waffles and strawberries for dinner (and try his best to make them as perfectly golden as she always did) and he bought her two bouquets of country flowers (one for their flat, one to be delivered to her office at lunchtime) and he finally framed a photo he liked from Christmas (Bran had taken it with his fancy film camera and send them the developed shot) and he booked her an appointment for a massage at a day spa (because she worked too hard, and a professional’s touch would likely serve her better than his, which always devolved into rather less relaxing acts). 

-

She texted him as he finished mixing the waffle batter, apologizing profusely and informing him that she would be late.

She texted him again an hour later, telling him to eat dinner without her but to save room for dessert. He smiled at the winking emoji she had added and made himself a waffle. 

He watched sports highlights and then he watched a second run of sports highlights and then he switched to a channel that was showing sappy romantic movies without commercials. Arya texted again with another apology, which he told her wasn’t needed, and that he’d be waiting for her whenever she got in. 

She texted again telling him not to wait up, but he had already fallen asleep on the sofa in front of _Florian + Jonquil_. 

-

Gendry never slept well when Arya wasn’t there. It was stupid, but it was true. With her beside him, he was a deep sleeper and difficult to wake. When he slept alone, he woke up every hour or two, as if his brain was only half unconscious. 

His eyes flicked open as soon as he heard the key in the door. She slipped into the flat with hardly a noise - she was good at being quiet when she wanted to be. 

“Hey,” he breathed, his voice husky from sleep. She sucked in a surprised breath. 

“Hi,” she said, slipping off her shoes and pausing. “Did you make waffles?” 

“Yeah,” he replied groggily. There was a swift patter of feet before she landed on top of him, his grunt upon impact mingling with a chuckle. 

“I love you,” she said into his chest. Her voice was muffled and she exhaled contentedly as her body relaxed against his. He brought a hand to her hair and she squeezed his middle. “I’m sorry.” 

He shushed her, and before he could ask her about her day and before she could tell him how much she loved the flowers that had arrived at her office, they had both fallen asleep on their sofa.

-

Gendry woke first, but Arya was still dead to the world and directly on top of him, so he lay in peace for an hour or so, fading in and out of sleep. When she did wake, she sat up and looked at Gendry, who smiled at the way her hair was sticking out funny on one side. She smiled back and lay down on his chest again.

“I’m sorry I missed Valentine’s Day.”

“Arya,” Gendry said, “You were working ‘til... when did you get home?” 

“Three,” she said. “And you had made waffles.” She sounded miserable. Gendry sat up, manoeuvering their limbs so that Arya now sat across his lap. 

“What did you do at work?” He asked her, smoothing the wayward strands of her hair before bringing his hand down to cup her cheek. Arya rolled her eyes and he gave her his most stubborn face as he waited for an answer. 

“We got some last minute info from one of our clients,” she said, “She hadn’t told us everything cause she was scared it would hurt the case against the guy, but she called us yesterday afternoon and told us she had more emails and texts to show us and we wanted to get everything downloaded and copied and organized and then Jaqen suggested we try to get every message and accusation from our clients laid out chronological order and then before we knew it was half past two.” She gave him a hapless look. 

“And?” He prompted. “Do you think you’ll win?” Arya nodded. 

“I don’t think this guy will be allowed to be a landlord for much longer,” she said confidently, “I think we’ve got him.” There was a hint of fire in her eyes and Gendry smiled and brought his forehead to hers. 

“Good,” he said, kissing her with purpose and drawing his hand down to support her neck. 

“I’m still sad I missed the waffles,” she said as she pulled away. 

“The girl I’m marrying always picks justice over waffles,” he said seriously, “and I can easily just make more waffles.” Arya’s eyes softened in a way that made him feel as though the wind had been knocked out of him and replaced by some sort of otherworldly warmth. She loved him. He loved her.

“I’ll make them,” she said after a moment, “I’m better at it.” 

-

Arya asked him how his work had been the day before. Gendry only looked at her as he shoved another forkful of waffle into his mouth. 

“Boring?” She said, sounding sadder than he liked to hear her. He nodded and shrugged as he swallowed. 

“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” he joked. 

-

“Since when do we do gifts?” Arya asked, after giving him a syrupy kiss on the cheek to thank him for the massage. 

“Bella yelled at me,” he confessed, “But you do deserve a massage.” 

“It sounds lovely,” she said, collecting his plate, “I hope you know that your massages are my very favourite, though.”

-

He washed the dishes and she dried them, telling him all that she was allowed to tell him about the case their team was building. 

“Some people were thinking of just sleeping at the office,” she said as she set a fork down, “It was so late that I almost fell asleep in the cab. Jaqen offered the couch in his office but -,”

Gendry dropped the griddle part of the waffle iron into the soapy water with a loud thud, splashing both of their shirts with dishwater. “He asked you to sleep in his off-,”

“Seven _hells_, Gendry!” Arya said, her voice loud and annoyed and almost amused at his reaction. “No, Jaqen did not ask me to sleep in his office, he told the _whole team_ that they were welcome to crash there if needed.” Gendry frowned and hummed as he reached into the sink to rinse off the plate he had dropped. As he handed the wet griddle to Arya, though, he was met with a stubborn look and folded arms. “You’re not getting over this, are you?”

“He’s weird,” Gendry shrugged, setting the griddle on the drying rack beyond her. He wasn’t backing down on this - no matter how innocent Jaqen’s offer had seemed, Gendry was certain that the guy was a creep. Arya narrowed her eyes at him. 

“I know he’s weird, Gendry,” she said stubbornly, “I’m the one who puts up with him every day. I thought you thought I could handle him, though.” She didn’t sound hurt or uncertain. Her voice was almost playful as she raised a challenging eyebrow. 

“I do think you can handle him,” Gendry grumbled. “I _know_ you can. He’s just -,” 

“Weird, yeah,” Arya finished, stepping closer and uncrossing her arms. “And you’re stubborn and you worry too much. And you’ve got bubbles on your shirt.” His eyes dropped to his chest, looking for whatever stray soap bubbles had landed there. Before he could realize what she was doing, Arya had scooped up a handful of the lukewarm dishwater and splashed it against his chest, setting off a burst of bubbles between them. His jaw dropped and he let out a shocked laugh as he looked from his drenched t-shirt up to her elfish grin. 

“I like this shirt,” he cried. She only smiled wider as she stepped tighter to him. 

“Guess we’ll have to wash it,” she said as she tugged at the bottom of said shirt. He let her peel it off him, enjoying the satisfied expression on her face as she threw his top over her shoulder and let her eyes run down his torso. He let her step closer still, let her slink her hands around his neck, let her stand on her tiptoes and bring her lips tantalizingly close to his. 

“_Augh!_” Arya cried as water dripped down her chin. He had caught himself with the splash, too, but it had been a relatively direct hit to the side of Arya’s head, which was now dripping with dishwater. The hair on the affected side stuck to her cheek and she stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide. “That is _disgusting_.”

“You started it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hands up to unsuccessfully attempt to avoid her retaliatory splash. He soaked her shirt with his next attempt, but she leapt over to retrieve the detachable sinkhead, spraying him with warm (and mercifully clean) water. They were a mess of bubbles and water for a few moments, with Gendry eventually dropping to his knees to avoid slipping and tugging Arya down with him. She pulled him forward so that he lay above her, and he placed a hand behind her head so that it didn’t knock against the tile. She let him kiss her once before pushing him away slightly, his hand pausing its attempt to peel her soaking wet shirt up her midsection. 

“I’m not having sex with you in a puddle of dirty dishwater,” Arya said, prompting Gendry to snort and remove himself from her. He stood up and offered her a hand. 

“Guess we’ll have to shower, then,” he said as she took it and he hauled her off the floor. 

-

“This is how I’d been hoping to spend Valentine’s Day,” Arya sighed into his neck. It was late in the afternoon and since their rushed kitchen cleanup and their not-so-rushed morning shower, they had spent the day entirely in bed. Gendry hummed in agreement and continued to trace the lines on her palm. “It’s how I want to spend every day, really.” 

“Me too,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. Their stomachs rumbled in unison. “Let’s get tapas.” 

-

Arya waved at Sharna when they sat down, and the little lady gasped and shoved the dishes she was carrying into the arms of a passing waiter. She waved him in the right direction and rushed to Arya and Gendry’s table, where she promptly seized the hand Arya had held up to her. She beamed at the ring and then at Arya before she reached over to lightly whack Gendry on the back of the head. 

“Finally!” Sharna cried, “This took him far too long.” She clutched both of their hands now and shook her head with a smile. “You need a caterer? We cater!” Arya and Gendry looked at each other, bemused. 

“Er,” Gendry said, “We’ll let you know.” 

“We haven’t really planned anything yet,” Arya admitted. Sharna gave them each a pat on the cheek, declared that their meal was on the house, and loudly congratulated them again, leading to some hesitant applause from nearby tables. 

-

Sharna’s enthusiasm had obviously prompted some fellow guests to share what they had witnessed, and by the time Arya and Gendry paid their bill and left the little restaurant, there was a small cluster of photographers outside. They asked a lot of questions, demanding to know when the question had been asked and how much the ring had cost. One asked them if they had intended to “overshadow” Stannis and Melisandre’s engagement, and another asked Arya if she was pregnant. Neither said anything, but Gendry couldn’t help but smile as Arya tugged him through the small crowd and towards his bike. 

-

The headlines the next day did result in a call from Catelyn to confirm that her daughter was indeed not with child. 

“Would it matter?” Arya challenged her mother, and Gendry could hear Catelyn’s voice sputter on the other end, and Arya promised that when Gendry did knock her up, she would do her best to tell the family before the press found out.

Gendry grinned at the word ‘when’. 

-

Gendry was sorry to hear that Jack had been left in Stoney Sept for the weekend with his favourite neighbour, but he forgave Bella quickly - between work, school, and being a single mother, she didn’t get very many weekends off. 

They went to a local bar of Mya’s choosing, some place called The Paradise that a friend of hers had recommended. It was a little too dark and loud for Gendry’s taste, but he couldn’t complain - for the first time, they were all together. It felt sort of right that they were breaking the rules and getting drunk. This was probably what Robert would have wanted. 

Edric bought them all tequila shots and floated the idea of matching tattoos, which Bella was all for and Mya made a disgusted face at. Gendry would need a significantly higher blood alcohol percentage before he would even consider getting _matching tattoos_. 

-

“Gendry?” A voice said. Asha Greyjoy,Theon’s effortlessly cool sister, had appeared at his side. She clapped him on the shoulder in greeting and asked him what he was doing in a club without having been dragged there by Arya - this prompted a snort from Mya. Asha smiled at her and Mya seemed to sit up a little straighter.

“These are my siblings,” Gendry explained, choosing to ignore the teasing and the smiling as he nodded to each of them. “Bella, Edric, Mya.” 

“No shit,” Asha said, “Robert’s, yeah?” She looked between them and nodded.

“Want to join us for a drink?” Bella suggested eagerly, and Gendry noticed that she was glancing between Asha and Mya. 

-

Arya arrived with Sansa a half hour later, and Gendry did not miss the flash of confusion in the elder Stark sister’s eyes when she saw Mya and Asha laughing together. Mya looked up when Sansa greeted the group and Gendry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Mya’s oh-so-casual head nod as she tucked her hair behind her ear and continued to chat up Asha. Arya, too, looked between the girls and met Gendry’s eye with a brow raised. Bella looked as though she was doing some math in her head as she, too, sensed some awkwardness.

“Arya,” Edric cried, clearly oblivious, “can we Facetime a friend of mine?” 

-

“Since when are Mya and Asha so close,” Sansa hissed, quiet enough that only Gendry and Arya would hear her. 

“They’re only talking,” Arya said fairly. 

“Yeah, and laughing, and barely looking away from each other,” Sansa snapped. 

“And?” Arya said. “Last time I checked, Mya was single.” Sansa scowled at her sister and went to order another gin and tonic. 

-

It was almost amusing, watching Mya and Sansa attempt to be casual around each other, though the tension was tangible. Bella kept giving Gendry looks that told him he would have to fill her in as soon as possible. Even Edric caught on after a few minutes, his jaw dropping slightly as he stared across the table and seemed to clue into the fact that Sansa Stark was into his sister.

Bella was asking Sansa about her latest philanthropic endeavor, attaching her name to a television campaign that raised awareness about the fragile ecosystem that existed in the Sea of Dorne. Gendry was fairly sure that there was a specific species of dolphin that was the focus of Sansa’s television spots, but he couldn’t recall the name. 

“Yeah, I’ll be on _Weekends With Willas_ on Sunday morning to chat about it!” Sansa beamed, excited by Bella’s interest. “Lowther dolphins are _so_ adorable and they’ve recently become endangered. It’s horrible, really. I always loved dolphins growing up, so this is quite personal for me.” __

_ _“Personal?” Mya piped up in amusement, raising an eyebrow, “I didn’t know you were so comfortable with the public knowing about your life.” Sansa pursed her lips before smiling politely back at Mya, though her eyes were icy. _ _

_ _“I’m alright with them knowing that I like _dolphins_,” she said flatly. “Bella, do you want another vodka cran?” _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“I’ve actually just bought a new place,” Mya was telling Asha, who asked if she had any other big birthday plans, “So I’ll be heading back up tomorrow to finish unpacking.” _ _

_ _“Bought?” Sansa said, her voice far too sweet to be genuine as she returned with drinks for herself and Bella, “That’s awfully impressive, Mya. I thought you hated committing to anything.” Gendry felt himself exhale and didn’t even need to make eye contact with Arya to know that she was also wincing at their sisters’ mutual inability to just admit that they liked each other. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _Asha Greyjoy bid farewell to their table after three quarters of an hour, insisting that she had to get back to her friends. By this point, Sansa had thrown back four drinks and was sipping her way through her fifth, laughing rather loudly at everything anyone said, making a point to twist her finger through a curl in her hair anytime Mya’s eyes were on her. She screeched with delight as Bella recounted the time she kicked a particularly unpleasant customer out of the Peach._ _

_ _“My boss at the time was a total dick,” she said, “Like, he wasn’t on my side at all. Would have quit right then if I didn’t know he was about to get locked up. Prick.” Gendry frowned at Bella, about to ask why her boss had been arrested, but Sansa interrupted loudly. _ _

_ _“That’s like Arya,” she proclaimed. “Her boss is a _complete_ creep, but she puts up with him because one day she’ll run that place.” Sansa grinned at her sister, who looked as though Jaqen was the last thing she wanted to talk about. _ _

_ _“So, Bella, why -,” Gendry started._ _

_ _“He _is_ a dick, Arya,” Sansa carried on, looking to Arya for support, “I mean, the thing with the flowers.” Arya’s eyes widened before meeting Gendry’s. Thoughts of Bella’s boss left his mind as he took in Arya’s slightly panicked expression._ _

_ _“Thing with the flowers?” He asked Arya, but Sansa answered. _ _

_ _“You know, like, making her throw them out. Even if he _was_ allergic, which I doubt he is, it’s so not cool. Plus, like, asking her to sleep in the office with him - that’s just so beyond -,”_ _

_ _“Sansa!” Arya snapped, her eyes wide and her cheeks red. _ _

_ _“_What?_” Bella cried. Gendry stared at Arya, who swallowed. “Arya, your boss asked you to sleep with him?” _ _

_ _“No,” Arya said through gritted teeth. _ _

_ _“Sort of sounds like he did,” Edric said, though he seemed to find it all sort of funny._ _

_ _“What happened with the flowers?” Mya demanded, looking to Sansa, who - in her inebriated state - seemed thrilled to finally have Mya’s undivided attention. Gendry turned back to Arya. Her eyes hadn’t left him._ _

_ _“Yeah, what happened with the flowers?” Gendry asked, doing his best to not sound upset, and Arya’s face grew stony. _ _

_ _“Did you not tell Gendry?” Sansa cried, bringing a perfectly manicured hand to her mouth. Arya finally removed her eyes from Gendry’s face to glare at her sister. _ _

_ _“C’mon,” she said sharply, before grabbing his hand and dragging him from the table. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“Alright,” Arya said, turning to face him after leading him through a side door and into an alleyway. A girl seemed to be throwing up further down the lane, and a few guys were milling about at the end of the road, looking as though they were waiting for a lift. “I didn’t tell you because I knew it would just upset you -,”_ _

_ _“Yeah, this feels far better,” Gendry scoffed, prompting Arya to cross her arms impatiently. _ _

_ _“I just didn’t see the point in making you like him any less.”_ _

_ _“Fine,” Gendry snapped. “Seems fair. What happened with the flowers?” _ _

_ _“Jaqen’s allergic to certain types of pollen,” Arya sighed, “And the flowers you sent me on Valentine’s were all sorts of wildflowers that were causing a reaction, so he asked me to throw them away.” _ _

_ _“Right,” Gendry said. _ _

_ _“I didn’t!” Arya insisted. “I set them by the front door so that I could take them home but then when I left that night it was so late I must have missed them and then by the time I got there on Monday they were gone and -,” _ _

_ _“Hey,” Gendry said, stepping forward and embracing her as her words became more and more rushed. He ran a hand along her upper back as he held her. “It’s okay, really.” He was pretty sure he meant it. “I just wish you’d told me.” _ _

_ _“I don’t want you to hate him even more,” Arya said, pulling away and giving him a sad little smile. He tucked a strand of hair from her face, swallowing as her eyes closed delicately under his touch. _ _

_ _“Did he actually ask you to sleep with him?” Gendry asked. He had to know. Arya stepped away and looked at her feet, and Gendry felt his stomach clench. _ _

_ _“No,” she said, though Gendry knew that it was not the whole answer. “Not really, no, he -,”_ _

_ _“Not _really_?” Gendry spat, and Arya looked to her side, her jaw tightening slightly as she took a deep breath. _ _

_ _“He offered a spot on one of the couches in his office,” she said, meeting his eyes briefly before glancing down and speaking to his chest. “He was sleeping on the other one. And he said that he’d asked the rest of the office if they wanted to crash there, too.” Gendry said nothing, waiting for the ‘but’ that he knew was coming. Arya sighed. “But when I was talking with some of the team the next Monday, they all looked at me funny when I brought it up.” Gendry felt his fist clench unconsciously and he flexed his hand. _ _

_ _“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded angry. He _was_ angry. He wasn’t angry at her, not really - although he did wish she had told him. He was angry at Jaqen, who wanted her with such straightforward transparency. Gendry knew that Arya could take care of herself, but the thought of that creep trying to get her to sleep on his couch, alone with him at the office… It made him feel dizzy with fury. _ _

_ _“I thought you’d be angry,” Arya said, sounding half exasperated and half amused as she took in his expression. “And I was right, wasn’t I?” _ _

_ _“Yeah,” Gendry said, and any amusement in Arya’s face left when she heard the stiffness in his voice. _ _

_ _“Gendry, come on,” Arya started with a scoff, “You know I’d never let -,” _ _

_ _“It’s not about _letting_ him do anything, Arya,” Gendry cried, far louder than he intended to. “It’s just the fact that he’s… He’s just always _around_ and he clearly thinks about you in a way that’s -,”_ _

_ _“Of course he’s always around,” Arya shot back, her own voice rising. “We work together! When did you become the overprotective jealous boyfriend?”_ _

_ _“Jealous?” He said, “I’m not _jealous._ I don’t have anything to be jealous about, do I?” The question earned him a loud groan as Arya threw her head back and clutched briefly at her hair. _ _

_ _“Really?” she demanded, crossing her arms and shooting him her sharpest glare. “You’re actually asking -,”_ _

_ _“Ah, shit!” A voice said with a panicked laugh, as the flash from a phone camera made both Arya and Gendry jump. There was a scuffling as the guy trying to photograph them moved away, his companions moving along too. The girl who had been puking was looking over at them as she wiped her mouth, her friend squinting as though trying to figure out if she was truly watching Arya Stark and Gendry whatever-his-last-name-is fight in this alley. _ _

_ _“Let’s go,” Arya said after a moment, shoving past him to go back into the club. Gendry sighed and followed behind her, immediately losing her in the throng of people. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _Gendry bid farewell to Edric and Bella, who were diving deep into Edric’s relationship history and astrological chart. He left Mya with a pat on the shoulder as she glared over at Sansa chatting up a bartender. _ _

_ _“Stop being stupid,” Gendry said quietly, “Just… talk to her. She likes you.” _ _

_ _“Fuck off,” Mya said, though she was half smiling as she nodded towards the door, where Arya was waiting with her arms folded. “Worry about your own shit.” _ _

_ _“There’s no shit,” Gendry said, a beat too quickly. Mya raised an eyebrow. _ _

_ _“Just talk to her,” she said mockingly. “She likes you.” _ _

_ _“Hopefully,” Gendry sighed._ _

_ _-_ _

_ _They rarely went to sleep in a bad mood with the other one - they usually found a way to turn their arguments into blissfully spirited make-up sex. When they did fall asleep angry, he tended to wake with Arya in his arms, and their apologies and concessions would be made in a sleepy morning haze._ _

_ _Gendry woke up with Arya’s back to him. He swallowed and stared at the ceiling until he drifted back to sleep._ _

_ _-_ _

_ _He awoke again an hour or so later and saw Arya sitting up in bed, looking sort of amused as she scrolled through her phone. _ _

_ _“What’s up?” Gendry asked cautiously, wondering if the Stark sibling group chat was having a particularly active morning._ _

_ _“We’re breaking up, apparently,” Arya said casually, not flinching as he immediately sat up in surprise. She looked away from her phone to offer him a look of resigned disappointment. “I suppose we had a good run,” she sighed as she handed him the phone and he read furiously. _ _

_ _ **TROUBLE AT THE PARADISE: Arya & Gendry in yelling match outside of Bobby’s old haunt** _ _

_ _There were a few photos of their argument, alongside an old photo of Gendry’s father lighting up a cigarette in the same spot twenty years earlier. The article was brief and decisive. Though it offered no details about their argument, the writer had come to the conclusion that there had been a finality to their fight. They posited that the engagement had put too much pressure on Arya, who an inside source insisted “never had any interest in marriage” and was determined to explore other relationships. Gendry, like his father, had tried to tie down a wild Stark woman, and would surely spend the rest of his life regretting it. _ _

_ _“Hm,” Gendry hummed, an uncomfortable mix of bewildered amusement and unbridled frustration mingling together in his chest. _ _

_ _“Yeah,” Arya said, and he was relieved to see that she seemed to find it rather funny. “Stop looking so angry,” she laughed, reaching over to push some hair out of his face. “We’re not actually breaking up, stupid.” He offered her a smile and she gave him one back before letting out a heavy sigh. “We’re going to have to deal with this all day now,” she said. “My mum’s already texted me asking if everything’s okay.” Gendry groaned and looked back at the article. Arya looked furious in the photographs - her chin was tilted upwards and her posture was perfect, as though she was trying to bring herself up to his height. She really was stunning, even when she was angry with him. Before he could tell her this, though, her screen lit up with a phone call from Sansa. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _Sansa’s voice was shrill and furious and loud enough for Gendry to hear every word of the sisters’ conversation._ _

_ _“No. No, this is not happening.”_ _

_ _“Sansa, we’re not breaking up.”_ _

_ _“No, I know that. I mean these articles!”_ _

_ _“It’s fine, honestly -,”_ _

_ _“It’s not fine, Arya! It’s false and it’s cruel and it’s all my fault. I’m the one who brought your boss up and now you’ll be answering questions about this for months.” _ _

_ _“_Months?_ Sansa, they’ll have moved on within a week when something more exciting happens.” _ _

_ _A beat. _ _

_ _“Oh. You’re brilliant.” _ _

_ _“What?”_ _

_ _“I’ve already ruined your relationship once, I’m not letting it happen again.”_ _

_ _“Sansa, seriously, don’t worry.”_ _

_ _“You’d do the same for me. You _have_ done the same for me.” _ _

_ _“Sansa?”_ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“What’s she gonna do?” Gendry asked. _ _

_ _“Who knows?” Arya said, “Probably going to bring up the wedding during her _Weekends with Willas_ appearance tomorrow. Gush about the ring or whatever.” She held her hand out and smiled. “It is a nice ring.” _ _

_ _Gendry knew that they should talk about the night before, that they should sort things out and try - while sober - to work through both of their feelings on the whole situation. But she was smiling softly at the ring he had put on her finger, and they had already (without their knowledge) split up today. He decided to leave the fighting for later, and instead chose to lace his fingers through hers and cup her face with his free hand, tilting her face so that he could kiss her softly and let himself melt into her completely._ _

_ _-_ _

_ _Mya texted Gendry as he finished the last of his eggs. She wanted confirmation that he and Arya hadn’t broken up. Bella called him a few minutes later, wondering if they were alright. Edric messaged him to say that he was free if Gendry wanted to talk. Gendry couldn’t help but sigh as he thanked Edric and told him that everything was fine._ _

_ _“Shh,” Arya said, stacking her plate on his and setting them in the sink. “It’s nice that they care.” _ _

_ _It was, really, but Gendry was still Gendry. “It’d be nicer if everyone left us alone once in a while,” he grumbled. _ _

_ _“It would,” Arya agreed. There was a moment of quiet, and Gendry thought that perhaps, now, they should talk about it. Arya was in good spirits, which sort of threw him off. He had expected her fury to carry over into this morning - she was generally pretty good at holding grudges. Instead, she seemed happy to ignore their fight altogether. It wasn’t like her. “I wonder what Sansa’s going to say about us,” Arya said as she pulled herself up to sit on the kitchen counter. “Five crowns says she brings up the fact that I admitted I’d marry you, like, two months after we got back together.”_ _

_ _Gendry would usually quarrel with the implication that they had ever broken up (they hadn’t, not properly), but he was too interested in the first part of her statement. “Did you?” _ _

_ _“Of course,” Arya shrugged, running her hands up the arms that he had placed either side of her. “I was certain about you long before people are supposed to be certain about anything.” Gendry blinked at her, transfixed by her nonchalant tone, utterly disarmed by how casually she could make his heart leap into his throat. He wanted to find his footing again, to make sure that they understood each other’s frustration. _ _

_ _“Arya, maybe we should talk about last night.” _ _

_ _“What’s there to talk about?” She said, looking up at him determinedly. “We both know Jaqen’s a bit weird and we both know I can handle it.” Gendry grimaced at the casual-yet-decided finality of her tone._ _

_ _“It’s not a question of you _handling_ it. The way he acts around you isn’t normal.” _ _

_ _“Gendry,” Arya said flatly, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “I get it. Really, I do. But I’m not quitting my job.” Gendry stepped back from the counter, feeling himself get defensive._ _

_ _“When did I suggest -,” _ _

_ _“You didn’t!” Arya interrupted him, her voice far quieter and calmer than his own, though it still carried a sharpness. “You’d never. So there’s no point in arguing about it. He’s weird, you’re never going to like him, and I can put up with it because this is my dream internship and my dream job. Is there any more to be said?” She raised an eyebrow and waited. He scowled._ _

_ _“I’m never going to like him,” Gendry agreed. There were a few ‘but’s and ‘and’s that he wanted to add, as well as a reminder that she hadn’t been upfront with him about just how inappropriately Jaqen had acted - a reminder that she clearly knew his anger was not misplaced. Only he couldn’t get to those ‘but’s and ‘and’s, because Arya’s phone was ringing and then, before she could answer, Gendry’s phone was ringing too. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“Have you seen it?” Mya breathed as Gendry stepped away from Arya so that they could both carry on their conversations. “The post, Sansa’s Instagram post.” Gendry winced. He sometimes forgot that Sansa was in control of an Instagram account in his name. _ _

_ _“What did she do?” He wasn’t sure what sort of photos of himself and Arya that Sansa had at her disposal, but he was certain that there were a lot of them. Whatever damage control she was attempting was surely far more sappy than it needed to be._ _

_ _“Gendry,” Mya said, as though through gritted teeth. “She came out.” _ _

_ _“What?” Gendry snapped his head up and met Arya’s eyes. They were as wide as his own, and she was smiling, her phone still held to her ear. _ _

_ _“She posted this whole thing with a big caption about love and, like... she came out. On Instagram. She just - she came out.” _ _

_ _“Isn’t that a good thing?” Gendry asked. Arya had hung up the phone and was now reading something intently on her phone, grinning._ _

_ _“Of course it’s a good thing!” Mya cried. “It’s great, it’s… I don’t know. The train’s almost at Antlers.”_ _

_ _“You’ve left?” _ _

_ _“Yeah, Bella hit the road once she was certain that you two hadn’t actually split so I figured I’d just take an early train and - Gods, Gendry, what do I do?” _ _

_ _“Uh…,” Gendry was not sure what expertise he was supposed to be offering. _ _

_ _“I don’t want to fuck this up,” Mya said. A cool woman’s voice announced something in the background. “I don’t want to just call her up right now as if I’m _expecting_ something from her,” she took a deep breath. “Fuck. Right. I’ll talk to you later. Thanks, G.” _ _

_ _She hung up before he could ask her how exactly he had helped._ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“Sansa’s coming over,” Arya said. “How’s Mya?”_ _

_ _“Well,” Gendry started, though he wasn’t actually sure how Mya was. “She’s on a train.” Arya tutted. _ _

_ _“I can’t believe Sansa did this,” Arya said with a shake of her head. “I mean, on one hand, it makes total sense - posting a beautiful selfie and writing, like, seven paragraphs about love is _very_ her. But fuck, I hope she didn’t do it because of us.” She looked almost guilty. _ _

_ _“It’ll certainly grab the headlines,” Gendry nodded. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _It did, of course. Sansa entered the flat with a dramatic sigh. _ _

_ _“I don’t think I’ll be able to use my phone for a full week at this rate,” she huffed, heading immediately to their fridge to select a can of sparkling water. “It’s mostly good, of course - Willas wants to expand our chat to be about more than just dolphins tomorrow.” She stole some ice cubes from the freezer and grabbed a glass. “But seven hells, I didn’t think so many people cared! The Times wants to do a cover story. Can you believe that? A _cover_ story,” Gendry and Arya exchanged a look as Sansa frowned at their fruit bowl. “No lemons?”_ _

_ _“We’ve got limes,” Arya said. She moved swiftly and pulled her sister into a tight embrace. “You didn’t have to do this.” _ _

_ _“I did,” Sansa said, pulling away. “For myself and for you two. Now no one will even remember you broke up.” _ _

_ _“We didn’t,” Gendry said sharply._ _

_ _“Exactly!” Sansa beamed, grabbing a cutting board to slice up her lime. “But even if you had, my news is _far_ more interesting, no?”_ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“Did you like it, though?” Sansa asked Arya. Arya just looked at her sister for a moment, holding her knees to her chin as they sat together on the couch. Sansa frowned. “I mean, did it make sense? Was it, you know… well done?”_ _

_ _“Did it feel good?” Arya asked. Sansa nodded. “Then who cares if it was well done or not? It was what was right for you.” Sansa rolled her eyes. _ _

_ _“Can’t you just coddle me?” She said with a pout, “I’m fragile _and_ I’ve just made the whole country forget that you and Gendry split up.” _ _

_ _“We didn’t split up!” Gendry cried. It was Arya who rolled her eyes this time, but she shifted closer to him on the couch and slid her arm through his. _ _

_ _“I suppose I can coddle both of you at once,” Arya smiled as she leaned against Gendry. She looked back at Sansa and held out her hand. “It was perfect. I’m proud of you.” The sisters squeezed hands._ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“Did Mya get back home safely?” Sansa asked as they started their second episode of some workplace dramedy that they had all heard good things about. _ _

_ _“Think so,” Gendry shrugged. Arya gave him a look of exasperation and Sansa seemed to be trying very hard to keep her face from expressing any emotion. Gendry wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say, so he said nothing more._ _

_ _“Have you two kissed and made up at least?” Sansa said. _ _

_ _“Uh -,”_ _

_ _“Of course,” Arya said confidently, snuggling tighter into Gendry’s midsection. Gendry frowned._ _

_ _“Thank the gods,” Sansa said. “I felt purely awful for bringing that stuff up, like -,” _ _

_ _“Sansa,” interrupted Arya, “I can promise you that we’re not breaking up over a weird boss with pollen allergies.” Gendry still wished they had talked about it more, but she wasn’t wrong. They were not breaking up over this. Sansa sat up and crossed her legs on the couch. _ _

_ _“Okay, are we allowed to plan the wedding, then?” She looked between them, eyes wide with hope. “Please. You two have done nothing! You don’t even have a date chosen. Or a _dress_.” _ _

_ _Gendry didn’t have to look at Arya to know that she was thinking the same thing he was. Sansa’s day had been rather emotionally exhausting. The least they could do was pretend to care about their own wedding._ _

_ _“Fine,” Arya sighed. “I didn’t mind the last dress you sent.” Sansa clapped her hands before shushing herself._ _

_ _“No, no, that’ll have to wait. Gendry’s not allowed to know about the dress. How about a date? I was thinking, like, summertime - since it’s when you two met and everything. And you can’t have it too early since Gendry’s birthday’s in May and it shouldn’t be too close -,” The buzz of the door cut her off. _ _

_ _“That’ll be the food,” Arya said, moving to extract herself from Gendry. Sansa stood and waved Arya away. _ _

_ _“I’ll get it,” she said. Gendry reached over to his phone on the coffee table to see that the food was indeed on its way, and that he had four missed messages from Mya. He swiped to unlock his phone as Sansa opened the door. _ _

_ _“Shit,” Gendry said, as he and Arya processed the messages on his phone and leapt off the couch to see Mya and Sansa staring at each other. _ _

_ _“Mya,” Sansa breathed. _ _

_ _“Um,” Mya said, eyes wide as she briefly glanced to Gendry and Arya before looking back at Sansa._ _

_ _“Hi,” Sansa said. _ _

_ _“You’re here,” Mya said, “I was just dropping my bag off and I was about to - never mind. You’re here.” Sansa nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. _ _

_ _“I’m here,” she agreed. “And you’re here.” Gendry heard Arya sigh quietly. _ _

_ _“I’m sorry,” Mya said rather quickly, “If, you know, I made you feel like you had to or if I -,”_ _

_ _“No,” Sansa cut in. “I didn’t do it for you. I mean... I did. But not because, like, you made me. I made me. For me. And for them.” She briefly looked back at Arya and Gendry, but Mya’s eyes never left Sansa. “But also a little bit for you,” Sansa finished as her gaze met Mya’s again. They looked at each other for a moment, and Gendry felt as though he was intruding (even though he was standing in his own flat). _ _

_ _“Do you want to grab dinner?” Mya asked, slinging her backpack over her shoulder again. Sansa nodded and moved to grab her coat. _ _

_ _“Thanks, guys!” she called back to Arya and Gendry. _ _

_ _“Hi!” Mya said cheerfully, as though only now truly realizing that they were present. “Sorry for stealing her.” Arya made a vague shrugging gesture. _ _

_ _“More dinner for us, I guess,” Gendry said as Sansa grabbed her purse. _ _

_ _“And I’m sure you two have loads to discuss,” Arya grinned. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _The photos of Sansa Stark kissing one of Robert Baratheon’s mysterious new love children were enough to make all of Westeros forget about Gendry and Arya’s little spat in the alleyway. _ _

_ _“It’s hardly fair,” Arya said, amused as she scrolled through another article. “My family practically wanted you killed when we were photographed together, but Sansa snogs Mya in some dimly lit vegan spot in High Hill and it’s the height of romance.” _ _

_ _“Hey,” Gendry protested, “Rickon never wanted me killed.”_ _

_ _-_ _

_ _March was sunny and bright. Sansa shone in her new spotlight and Mya, who had thus far managed to slip under the radar as a blip on Robert Baratheon’s legacy, had now been forced to perfect her “fuck off” face for the paparazzi. The two bounced between King’s Landing and the Vale, even taking an impromptu weekend away in Dorne. _ _

_ _The warming weather did not quite match the feeling of Arya and Gendry’s flat._ _

_ _It wasn’t that they were constantly fighting - they weren’t. They exchanged a few sharp words once or twice, but only briefly - Arya’s job was to win arguments, and win arguments she did. She knew that Gendry didn’t like Jaqen and they both knew that one overly friendly colleague wasn’t enough to make Arya walk away from her clients. At the end of the day, he couldn’t argue with her forever. He vowed, against his nature and against his better judgement, to leave it be. _ _

_ _Things were fine, really. When Gendry asked about work, Arya would tell him all about the case she was currently working on (a Pentoshi single mother fighting for custody of her children, made difficult due to the fact that they had arrived in Westeros illegally) and passionately lament the fact that Stannis was stalling on reforming overly strict immigration laws. Gendry loved to listen to her verbally abuse his uncle and the system, and he did his best to ignore the fact that Arya no longer mentioned Jaqen when she spoke about her coworkers. Sandor Clegane seemed to be a more consistent presence at the office, something that Arya did not hide her ill feelings towards._ _

_ _Arya would ask Gendry about work in return, but his answers only put him in a sour mood. The new development he had attempted to axe was going ahead - a block of expensive red brick flats in the style of “Old Flea Bottom” that the firm and its clients were hoping would “breathe new life into the neighbourhood”. Neither of them liked talking about his work all that much. _ _

_ _They had other things to talk about, though. Sansa’s attention had shifted to her own relationship, but Catelyn seemed eager to move forward with wedding plans - this was a topic that Arya and Gendry found some common, disinterested ground on. Jack and Bella would video call every weekend and Arya would promise Jack that they would come visit in the summertime. Stannis’ people had no leads on any twins named “Hill”, but Gendry felt optimistic regardless. They’d turn up - he knew they would._ _

_ _-_ _

_ _Gendry knew that Arya was a little hurt when Jon had messaged her to tell her that he wouldn’t be able to call her this month. _ _

_ _“He had service. He always calls me first,” she sulked as she stirred her soup aimlesly. “I’d thought he’d want to talk about Sansa, or let me rant about mum’s wedding shit. And he didn’t mention Val in his last email, so I wanted to ask about that.” She set her spoon down. “Who’s he wasting his minutes on?” _ _

_ _“Maybe he wanted to talk to Sansa about everything?” Gendry lied, hoping that his tone sounded natural. Arya narrowed her eyes at him. _ _

_ _“I don’t think Jon even remembers Sansa’s birthday most years,” she scoffed. “Whatever, if he’s too busy for me -,”_ _

_ _“He’s not!” Gendry said quickly, turning his back to the stove as he ladled himself another helping of soup, knowing that Arya would see through the lie if he faced her. “It was probably to check in with Robb. The baby’s due in a few months, right?” Arya considered this. _ _

_ _“When did you get so emotionally intelligent?” she snorted after a moment. He smiled to himself and shrugged. As he turned, he saw Arya sliding out of her chair and moving towards him. She snaked her arms around his midsection and squeezed. _ _

_ _(Jon had used up his minutes talking to Gendry. It had been important, though - Gendry was going to make good on his Christmastime promise.)_ _

_ _-_ _

_ _Gendry noticed when Arya would swipe away message notifications on her phone when he was around, but it didn’t bother him - he knew that he had nothing to worry about. He ignored the way she took the odd Saturday morning call from their balcony - she only did that because she wanted him to have a lie in. _ _

_ _Every so often, Arya would have to work into the wee hours of the morning. Gendry would lay awake for hours, missing her little form beside him, before falling into a hesitant sleep. He never slept for long, though, because she would always accidentally wake him up as she slid into bed and wrapped her arms around his middle. _ _

_ _Sometimes she kissed him, so lightly it was almost imperceptible, on his cheek or his brow, on the back of his neck or his hair-covered chest. He would pull her close to him, wanting to ask her how her day had been, but she was always already half asleep in his arms._ _

_ _-_ _

_ _March turned into April and though King’s Landing was warm, the weather grew rainy. Gendry was frowning at the hopelessly unfunny newspaper cartoons as he ate his cereal and Arya was getting ready for work. _ _

_ _“I just don’t get why he’s even bothering,” she huffed as she pulled her hair back and grabbed a mug for her coffee. “What does Sandor Clegane have to gain from pretending to fight for justice?” _ _

_ _“Maybe he’s trying to change,” Gendry offered, expecting the glare he immediately received. “Look at me, I used to be a good-for-nothing criminal and now I work in an office and wear a suit and -,”_ _

_ _“Oh, fuck off,” Arya laughed, her voice somehow both warm and sharp. “You were never a criminal, you were a kid! And really, the way they took you from the Seaworths should never have been allowed. If they had been granted a proper lawyer, there’s no way they’d have lost -,” She stopped herself and looked down. “Sorry.” _ _

_ _“It’s fine,” he shrugged and she tapped her mug nervously. “Seriously, it was over a decade ago now, and it’s not as if I was their only kid.” Arya’s lips parted at his words. She looked almost heartbroken. _ _

_ _“They still missed you, though,” she said. Gendry shrugged again. He really didn’t want to relive his teenage misery over breakfast. _ _

_ _“Arya, it’s fine,” he said. She was biting her lip. “You’re going to be late. Go show Clegane who’s boss.” _ _

_ _She rolled her eyes but, upon checking the microwave, saw that she was indeed running late. “I love you,” Arya said as she kissed his cheek and went to grab her raincoat. “So do they.” Gendry humoured her with a small smile as she left. _ _

_ _-_ _

_ _He wasn’t sure which one of them had it worse. There was nothing to say about Gendry’s days at the office, aside from a continual sense of disappointment when he was asked to help out on another project that meant nothing to him. Arya, meanwhile, was dealing with her (extremely frightening looking) sworn enemy and a boss who clearly wanted to sleep with her. _ _

_ _“I hate him!” Arya growled as she yanked her work shoes off and stalked into the flat. She paused when she saw the leftover shepherd’s pie that Gendry had reheated and took a breath. “How was your day?” She asked, calmer. “How was your appointment?”_ _

_ _“Nothing to report, apparently I’m very fit,” Gendry said, “My meditation is really paying off.” Arya raised an eyebrow as she hooked her arms around his neck. _ _

_ _“You hardly ever meditate,” she scoffed, pulling his face down so that their noses could touch. _ _

_ _“Mhmm,” he agreed. “Imagine how fit I’d be if I did it every day.” Arya considered this, her eyes tracing his face. She kissed him lightly._ _

_ _“I don’t think I could handle a fitter version of you,” she breathed. Her stomach grumbled. _ _

_ _“Tell me about your day,” he laughed, guiding Arya by her shoulders to a seat as she pouted. “We can discuss how fit I am later.” He served them each a plate and listened as she ranted. _ _

_ _“...And he sticks his nose in _everywhere_. He’s providing ‘consultation’ because he’s won some high profile cases like this, but he talks to us like we’re idiots. Even Jaqen! Clegane’s clearly got some issues with his masculinity, cause he seems desperate to undermine Jaqen every time they’re in the same room. He called him short the other day for no reason at all!” Gendry snorted and then composed his face quickly. Jaqen’s name hadn’t been said out loud in their flat for weeks - there was no need for him to start an argument as soon Arya mentioned him. _ _

_ _“That’s horrible,” Gendry said, and Arya only rolled her eyes._ _

_ _“It was stupid,” she said, apparently willing to brush off Gendry’s amusement at Jaqen’s expense. “He gave me this half-hearted apology today, too. It was so awkward, Jaqen had something to show me in his office and Clegane insisted on cornering me to tell me that he understands why I hold a grudge and that he hopes I can see that he was only doing his job.”_ _

_ _“Huh,” Gendry said. “What’d you say?”_ _

_ _“He didn’t let me say anything,” Arya said, “He just said that he wants to do that job better now, and that he’s no longer going to help pricks get away with being pricks. Then he decided that Jaqen and I’s meeting involved him for some reason and he followed me in.” She rolled her eyes. Gendry swallowed a mouthful of potato. _ _

_ _“Well it’s nice that he tried,” Gendry said fairly. Arya made a face. “What did Jaqen have to show you?” Arya frowned. _ _

_ _“A depressing footnote about immigration law,” she said, watching him as he poked through his mince meat. _ _

_ _“You don’t think… I mean, maybe Clegane sees the way Jaqen looks at you. Maybe he’s trying to -,” _ _

_ _“What? Protect me?” Arya snapped, standing up. _ _

_ _“Look out for you,” Gendry finished. _ _

_ _“You’re suggesting that the man who fucked my sister over and ruined my best friend’s life is in reality a great guy who’s actually keeping me safe from my boss… My boss, who - unlike Clegane - talks to me like an equal and not some stupid little girl?” She looked as frustrated as Gendry felt._ _

_ _“I’m not saying that,” Gendry said flatly. “I just mean, at the Christmas party Clegane did mention Jaqen’s tendency to hire young, pretty girls as interns. Maybe he was just -,” He stopped because Arya’s lip was shaking and it looked as though she was blinking back tears. _ _

_ _“I am not just some pretty, young intern,” she spat. “I’m really, _really_ good at my job, Gendry. I’m helping people who are in trouble.” _ _

_ _“Arya, I -,”_ _

_ _“I don’t come home at 2 o’clock in the morning some days because I’m just eye candy for Jaqen, you know that, right?” Gendry nodded and swallowed. _ _

_ _“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quietly. _ _

_ _“If Jaqen has ever thought of me that way, it’s not as though I’m about to let him act on anything,” she said, her voice slightly less shaky. “And I’m not about to buy that Clegane is suddenly a good guy. Only one of these men has harmed anyone I know, and it’s not Jaqen.” Gendry nodded. _ _

_ _“I wish you didn’t have to work with either of them,” he said honestly. She nodded and sighed. _ _

_ _They did the dishes in silence and Gendry wiped down the kitchen counter as Arya went to take a shower. Her phone lit up as she moved to leave. _ _

_ _“You’ve got a text,” Gendry said, grabbing the device to give to her. _ _

_ _ _ **Unknown Number:__** _ _   
_Thanks love xx. Can’t wait_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He blinked but did his best to keep his face passive as he handed her the phone. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Night,” he said, brushing past her on his way to the bedroom. “Love you.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I love you,” Arya said. There was a trace of worry in her voice that Gendry didn’t want to think about. It wasn’t exactly a scandalous text. Loads of people sent little ‘x’ kisses without them really meaning anything. He forced himself to shut his eyes before Arya got out of the shower. “I love you,” she repeated when she joined him in bed. “Only you.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He woke to her watching him, her hand brushing hair out of his eyes. She had showered already and was wrapped up in a fluffy white towel._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Morning,” she breathed. “Sorry for waking you. It’s almost eight, though.” Gendry blinked and rolled onto his back. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Do we have somewhere to be?” he frowned. Arya’s exhaled. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yeah,” she said. “I managed to ruin your birthday gift last night, so I’ve got to give it to you today.” Gendry knit his brow and looked at her. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“My birthday’s not for another two weeks,” he said, earning himself a rather dramatic eye roll. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I know when your birthday is, Gendry,” Arya scoffed. “But you saw that text last night and I’m sure you’re wondering what it was about and I hate lying to you and the last thing I want is for you to think that I’m hiding something from you.” She spoke quickly, the way she did when she was stressed out. She smiled almost reluctantly as he ran a soothing hand up her arm. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You don’t have to,” he said. “I’m happy to wait. I’m not fussed, honestly.” Of course that text had been totally innocuous. Whatever silly, small thing she had been keeping from him was only a birthday gift. “I shouldn’t have looked at your screen either way.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Shh,” Arya said, pushing his hair back again and kissing his forehead. “Get showered, I don’t want to be late.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hot Pie’s? Are we meeting someone?” Gendry asked as they approached the diner. Arya shrugged. She had been coy all morning, answering no questions and offering him no hints beyond her little smiles and - once or twice, and only for a split second - a look of apprehension. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It felt right,” she said, popping up to kiss his cheek before opening the door for him. “Happy birthday.” He raised an eyebrow at her but proceeded into the mostly-empty restaurant. Hot Pie nodded to him from behind the counter before glancing into a booth by the window. Gendry looked over and felt Arya squeeze his hand. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Davos looked older - his hair had been growing lighter when Gendry had last seen him over ten years previously, and now it was fully grey. Marya’s face was lined and she seemed far shorter than Gendry remembered her - though he had likely grown since then. They had both stood up, Davos nervously tapping his good hand against his injured one. Marya took him in, her eyes already watering as they met his. “Look at you,” she breathed. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Marya,” Davos said quietly, as if Gendry was some sort of wild animal that he didn’t want her to frighten away. But Marya didn’t seem to care. She strode towards him and embraced him, the force nearly knocking the wind out of him. Gendry was frozen for a moment before he patted her back and let himself tuck his head into the hug. He met Davos’ sparkling eyes over Marya’s shoulder and he smiled. Her hands came to his face as she stepped back, tears rolling down her rosy cheeks. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Look at you,” Marya said again, wiping away a tear as she smiled up at him. “You’re so big.” She looked at Arya. “How do you keep him fed? I swear, he used to eat a full lasagne on his own some nights - though I hope he’s picked up a few more table manners since.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“_Marya,_” Gendry said, and his fond exasperation felt unnervingly familiar - as though it had only been a few hours, not a decade, since he had asked Mrs. Seaworth to stop embarrassing him. “We both cook,” he insisted. Marya raised her eyebrows and looked back at Arya, impressed._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“My goodness, you have him properly trained,” she cooed, coaxing Arya to sit down in the booth with her. Gendry’s looked to Davos, who swallowed and offered another hesitant smile. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hello,” Davos said. Gendry stepped forward and hugged him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(A few years ago, he might have hesitated, back when his gut reactions were ones of mistrust and suspicion. But being loved by Arya Stark had ruined him a little bit.)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They had tried to find him. Of course they had. They had contacted the boys home and social services, but there were rules about foster parents who had been deemed unsuitable reaching out to problem children. Marya laughed as she reminisced about being escorted out of the child services offices by security, but Davos looked rather grave as she recounted the events. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They had called up gang members that Gendry barely knew and neighbourhood kids that might have some inkling of his whereabouts, but Gendry had never been great at making or keeping friends - no one had heard from him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Eventually they had stopped trying, figuring that he would get in touch if he wanted anything to do with them. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(“I always thought the same for you,” Gendry had admitted). _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And then you show up in the Post!” Marya cried. “I could hardly believe it, our son working for Ned Stark’s family.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He was doing more than working, Marya,” Davos said, raising his eyebrows at Gendry and shaking his head with exasperation. “You’ve got a nose for trouble, boy,” he said fondly. Gendry blushed but decided to change the subject - he could sense that the topic of Robert Baratheon was approaching, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to wade into that territory so soon._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“How did you find Arya?” he asked. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Arya found us,” Marya said. “Apparently one of her co-workers used to work in child services and pulled a few strings for her. I thought she was joking at first. Imagine, Arya Stark calling me up and asking me to breakfast!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“She was mad at us,” Davos smiled. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I wasn’t!” Arya protested. “I only wanted to know if you’d ever tried to find him.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We didn’t want to meddle once things seemed to… settle down for you,” Davos said, looking at Gendry in earnest. “We didn’t want you to think we were only interested in you now that you were rich and famous and all that.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’d never think that,” Gendry said. Marya smiled warmly and Arya squeezed his hand. “So how long have you lot been planning this?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“A few weeks,” Arya shrugged. “Jaqen got me their information -,”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“_Jaqen_ made this happen?” Gendry spluttered. Arya rolled her eyes. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He helped me track them down, yes, but I think I deserve slightly more credit than him,” she said. “Anyway, I got their details and called Marya up and asked if she would like to reconnect.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It had been years since I’d seen her cry like that,” Davos said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Devan was away at university in Dorne, and Davos and Marya had not yet told him about hearing from Arya. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He missed you loads,” Davos said. “Barely spoke to us for weeks after you left. He’s a good kid, though, a big reader. I think he’d love to catch up if you’d like.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Of course,” Gendry nodded, his heart breaking slightly at the relief on the Seaworths’ faces. “I’ve missed him, too.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Marya demanded that Arya tell her how Gendry had proposed, giving Davos an opportunity to meet Gendry’s eye seriously. “I’m sorry about your father,” he said. “I thought about trying to get in touch last summer, but I’m sure it was difficult enough without me sticking my nose in. Losing your dad so soon after you met him…” He shook his head. Gendry swallowed, his mouth oddly dry all of a sudden._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I was sorry he died, too,” Gendry said honestly, “But he was never really my dad. I think he acknowledged me because he was scared of pissing Arya off, in all honesty.” Davos chuckled quietly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I cannot blame him for that,” he said before he paused and looked at Gendry, as though he wanted to remember every inch of it in case they were separated once again. “I’m sorry we lost you.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m sorry I got arrested,” Gendry said. Davos nodded. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Worked out for you, though,” he said as he glanced at Arya. “Engaged, I hear?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“At a _strip club_?” Marya spat. “Gendry, you didn’t.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I didn’t!” Gendry cried, holding his hands up. “I thought about it, though.” Marya shook her head at him and looked back at Arya. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You are a very patient woman, Miss Stark.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Davos had retired a few years ago, and the two now spent many a weekend up at his ancient Aunt Betha’s ranch. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Remember the horses, Gendry? You loved those horses!” Marya beamed. Arya looked up at him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He did make quite the impressive stable master, I have to say,” Arya said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Marya had inherited her father’s carpentry practice, which they both seemed to revel in._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We’ve just helped put together some temporary housing for the homeless,” Davos said. “Nothin’ fancy, but it’ll do for now until the city council gets their act together and breaks ground on something more permanent.” Gendry felt shame wash over him for a moment before he remembered that he had an ounce of power in the world, and that being a bit more of a bully at work could make a difference. He vowed to speak his mind the next time his boss shot down his less profitable proposals._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They bid farewell when Davos’ phone rang and he realized that he was an hour late for picking his car up from the shop. Marya started crying again as she hugged Gendry goodbye, and cried even harder when he patted her on the back and said he’d like to see them again soon, if they’d be alright with that. Davos clapped Gendry on the shoulder and told him not to be silly, that they would love to see him again, that Devan would be home from school soon and they’d all have to catch up. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Davos sounded sad when you asked if it’d be okay to see them again,” Arya said as they started back to their flat. “You know that they really do want you in their lives, don’t you?” She sounded worried, as though she didn’t trust that this was evident to him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I do,” Gendry said, reminding himself that it was in fact the truth. “I just never expected this, you know? I wish I’d known they had looked for me.” Arya frowned, linking her arm through his and pulling him close._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Of course they looked for you, Gendry” she said fiercely. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It was alright, then?” Arya asked when they arrived back home. “It wasn’t too overwhelming or anything?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry slipped a strand of hair behind her ear as he shook his head at her. He kissed her purposefully, cupping her face and trying to put every “Thank you” and “I’m sorry” and “I love you” and “How did I get so lucky?” he had ever thought into the act. She placed her own hands on either side of his neck and smiled as she responded with enthusiasm. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I can’t believe you ruined your birthday gift,” she chuckled, delicately running a hand through his hair and looking up at him. “I’ve no gift for your actual birthday now.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Shh,” he said, kissing her again. Surely she knew that she had given him more than he could ever ask for - certainly more than he deserved. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’ll just have to treat you extra special that day, I suppose,” she breathed, tracing a hand down his chest in a way that nearly made him shudder. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“How on earth will I be able to tell the difference?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He brought his forehead to rest against hers and traced his thumb along her cheekbone, down her jawline, until his hand rested on her neck. He kissed her slowly, winding his hands through her hair and kneading his thumb against her hip bone. He took her to bed as the rain started against the window, the only sign that a world existed beyond Arya Stark._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He took the Seaworths for dinner a few days after Devan returned home from school. The younger boy seemed shy at first, but came out of his shell by the time their starters came. He reminded Gendry a bit of Bran. He was quiet but more sure of himself than he let on, and seemed full of little bits of trivia, like why pigeon pie was called pigeon pie, even though it had no pigeons in it, and why zorses are called “zebras” in other parts of the world. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry asked him if he was on the school quiz team, which Devan laughed at. “I don’t think they’d want a first year,” he said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re finished your first year, though,” Gendry shrugged, swallowing a bite of his pigeon-free pie. “Worth a shot in the fall, no? Or at least find a pub team, you’d be brilliant.” He pretended not to notice Marya’s eyes water as she ignored her soup and watched the exchange. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Arya was offered a full-time, permanent position at Black & White & Associates, something that came as no surprise to Gendry. She was already doing far more work than any intern should be doing, and her boss was enamoured with her. It felt like a given. But Gendry wouldn’t allow himself to ruin things for Arya. She was practically vibrating with excitement when she arrived home, eager to tell him the news. He spun her around as he hugged her and insisted that they go out to celebrate. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“They also seem to have hired Clegane on in a more permanent role,” she said, wrinkling her nose. In his gut, Gendry felt a small sense of relief that he immediately felt guilty for. Clegane was nothing but an added layer of stress for Arya. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Don’t let him ruin this,” Gendry said. Arya deserved an evening to feel good about her job without any Jaqen- or Clegane-shaped shadows looming over the conversation. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry, meanwhile, called a board member a leech to his face in a meeting. This prompted his boss to sit him down and remind him that his surname did not give him permission to talk down to anyone, especially not the men in charge. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It’s not about who my father was,” Gendry scoffed, standing up to return to his desk. “They’re only willing to fund projects that’ll fill their pockets by the end of the quarter.” His boss made a sort of apologetic shrugging motion, as though he wanted to neither dispute nor agree with Gendry’s claim. “And my last name is Waters, by the way,” Gendry said as he exited the office._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry recalled his encounter as Arya watched him take out his frustration on their punching bag. “They’re so,” _WHACK!_ “fucking,” _WHACK!_ “greedy.” He glanced over to her, sitting sprawled on the floor and looking up at him dreamily. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“They’re horrible,” she nodded, her own cheeks flushed as though she, too, was in the midst of a workout. “What else did you say?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Kept my mouth shut after that,” he shrugged, “but I swear, not one of them wants to build anything for _people_, you know? It’s all just for profit.” _WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!_ He wiped the sweat from his brow and peeled his shirt off - it had grown sticky with sweat. Arya let out a heavy breath. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re right to be angry with them,” she said as she watched Gendry continue to jostle the punching bag. “Tell me more.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Don’t know what else there is to tell,” he said. _WHACK!_ “Just think the world could use fewer pricks like the ones I work with.” _WHACK!__ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Uh huh,” Arya breathed. “What else?”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I mean, I’m just sick of them putting money into expensive developments in poor neighbourhoods and acting as though they’re helping,” Gendry spat. _WHACK! WHACK!_ “They’ve never stepped foot in Flea Bottom. Probably scared they’d get the shit kicked out of them.” _WHACK!_ He brushed his hair out of his eye and looked at Arya. She was leaning back on her elbows now, her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes looked wild as they met his. “What?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re gorgeous,” she said as she considered him, her tone casual. Gendry snorted and grabbed his small towel. He dabbed sweat from his face and the back of his neck, raising his eyebrows at the way Arya was watching him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re not so bad yourself,” Gendry said, tossing the sweaty towel at her. She caught it and made a face as she threw it aside. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I mean it,” Arya said as she got to her feet. “You, sweaty, no shirt on. All violent and righteous and worked up. It’s pretty sexy.” Gendry laughed as she took his hands in hers and began to unwrap the tape around his knuckles. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m glad my work problems are such a turn on for you,” he joked, flexing his hand. She smiled apologetically. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“In my defence, most things you do are a turn on for me,” Arya said. “But you know you don’t owe those guys anything just because they hired you out of school, right? Fuck them, you can do anything you want to do.” Gendry nodded and tilted her chin upwards to kiss her lightly. Right now, all he wanted to do was shower - preferably with her._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re twenty-nine,” Arya said, noticing that it was now past midnight. He had been half asleep, her back pressed against his chest and his arm slung over her midsection. “That seems ridiculously old.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Go to sleep,” Gendry grumbled. He could practically hear her smile as she sidled in closer to him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry was not someone who was comfortable with being the center of attention, so birthday parties in his honour were sort of his idea of hell. He arrived home from work with half a worry that the flat would be filled with his (ever-growing and now rather large) family. But, of course, Arya knew him better than to attempt any sort of surprise party. She instead greeted him with a stack of envelopes, two chocolate cupcakes, and a small pile of gifts. It seemed silly, but he was touched by her insistence on finishing her work day early so that they could spend the whole afternoon together. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Jack had made Gendry a glittery, handmade card with multiple bull stickers on it, likely inspired by the boy’s amusement at Auntie Arya once calling his uncle “bull-headed”. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Mya had sent a card and a vegan cookbook. Sansa had signed the same card, telling him to make the most of Taurus season. He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but he appreciated the sentiment. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Stannis had sent him a set of stationery that featured the Baratheon crest. Renly sent him a gift certificate to a bespoke suit tailor, insisting that he try something that wasn’t strictly neutral. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Catelyn’s card included a not-so-subtle note about how eager she was to speak to himself and Arya about their wedding plans. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Edric had managed to track down a Flea Bottom FC jersey from the year they almost managed to place second in the league. This was not a particularly impressive achievement by most clubs’ standards, but it was the only thing that FBFC fans had ever really been able to celebrate. Edric had attached a note - ‘sorry if it’s a bit big - it was either this or youth small. thought the checkers were quite cool!’ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Davos, Marya, and Devan had sent a simple card with a few smaller pieces of paper tucked in: a recipe for Marya’s cinnamon rolls that Gendry had loved, a small packet of seeds for them to plant on their balcony, and -_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Holy shit,” Arya cried, snatching the mugshot from his hand. “They give these out?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I don’t know! Apparently!” Gendry said, lunging for the photo but not managing to steal it back. He supposed as the guardians of a minor, Davos and Marya must have been given a copy of his mugshot, but it seemed sort of morbid that this was one of the few mementos they had of him. Arya appraised his dour expression in the photo and nodded. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, you were _so_ my type,” she grinned. “My mother would have hated you.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“She hated me anyway,” Gendry said, plucking the photo back from Arya. “Gods, I really thought I looked dangerous with that stupid chain around my neck.” Arya made a face as she considered this. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“The chain’s kinda sexy,” she concluded. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _As a child, his birthdays had usually been lowkey. His mother would bake a cake and sing him “Happy Birthday”. If he was honest with himself, he hardly remembered any details from his birthdays with her, only her warm and calming singing voice. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _After she died, birthdays became solely a means of counting down the years until he would no longer be shuffled around the foster system. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Now, birthdays consisted of Arya. She wasn’t one for elaborate gifts, but she always did her best to be as obnoxious as possible when showing him affection. It felt like any other Friday night, really, only tonight her kisses tasted like chocolate frosting. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry snapped near the end of May. His proposal regarding a municipal low income housing project on Gin Alley was rejected, with the firm instead deciding to take on yet another set of sleek, ugly condominiums. He looked around at his coworkers, most of whom had trained themselves to avoid his eye. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We can afford both,” he said. The conference room went silent. “We’ve got the capital to work on both projects. The Gin Alley project is low cost, low risk, and it would only need a project manager, an architect, and myself - it’s city property, they’d provide contractors and -,”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Gendry, we’ve already heard your proposal,” his boss cut in, flashing his eyes dangerously. “We’re not taking resources away from Baelor’s Grove to fund a bunch of druggies and layabouts.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It _could_ look good,” offered an older woman who Gendry had never really spoken to. “Having our logo on-site at a charitable housing project.” A few people murmured, seemingly considering her point. Gendry stared at them. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You lot know that, like, actual people live on Gin Alley, right? I lived there for a year when I was a kid.” He kept his voice steady, but he could feel himself shaking. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _His boss gave him a tired look. “And you got out because you knew it was no place to live. If you make places like Gin Alley too comfortable, people won’t have any reason to leave.” Gendry blinked at him and stood up._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I got out by finding out I was the prime minister’s bastard son,” he said roughly. The older woman sucked in her breath at the word ‘bastard’. “Which means I really don’t need to be wasting my time here watching you all wank off to artistic renderings of concrete slabs.” He pulled his office key and company ID card from his pockets and tossed them onto the table. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Gendry,” his boss warned, the only person who seemed able to look in his direction. “That you would even think to direct that sort of language at your colleagues -,”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Former colleagues,” Gendry said. He held two fingers up at his boss and left, only stopping to grab the photo of Arya pinned by his desk._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The Seaworths still lived on Shallot Street, two blocks north of Gin Alley and five blocks east of the site where Gendry had just attempted to convince his former employers to take on a project. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He spent the afternoon with Devan, playing video games and eating Marya’s sugar cookies. Marya had grimaced as Gendry had explained why he wasn’t at work, but she had welcomed him in anyway. He could have gone straight home, but he didn’t want to sit around alone and wait for Arya to return at whatever hour Jaqen would keep her until. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Devan beat him at everything, just as he had when Gendry was a teenager. Gendry had fun anyway, enjoying the way Devan seemed to know the intricate backstory to each aspect of the game they played. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He arrived home about an hour earlier than he usually did, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and relishing in the fact that he wouldn’t have to wake up and wear a suit the following morning. He flopped onto the bed and got caught up thinking about how he would tell Arya. He was certain that most people would think him rather rash and childish for his behaviour. Arya would love that he’d done it like this, though. He had no trouble imagining the elfish smile that would spread across her face as he told her everything. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing he heard was the door slamming and a pair of angry voices. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You don’t have to come in,” Arya snapped, her voice hot. “Gendry will be here soon.” Gendry sat up with a start. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“So he can find you like this and go kill H’ghar?” A gruff voice scoffed. “Sit down. You two keep any whiskey?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Above the sink,” Arya said. Her voice was slightly calmer now. There was a clinking of glass as Gendry entered the room to see Sandor Clegane pouring Arya a glass of some old, expensive whiskey that Robert Baratheon had left Gendry. He blinked at the sight and Clegane looked up in surprise. “Thanks,” Arya said, before following her companion’s gaze and freezing._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Her face was flushed with anger and the neat braid she had worn out the door in the morning had been taken out, her hair now hanging loose around her shoulders. She looked fine otherwise, though her eyes flashed with something that scared Gendry as he approached her - it wasn’t often that he saw Arya nervous, especially not around himself. A knot that had been sitting in his gut for months seemed to tighten so rapidly that he thought he might explode. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Why are you home?” Arya breathed as Gendry reached her. Arya stood up and moved to him._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What happened?” he asked, his arms automatically wrapping themselves around her as she squeezed his midsection. “What did he do?” Gendry meant to ask the questions calmly, but they came out in a voice that was far more distressed and furious than he thought himself capable._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Give her a minute,” Clegane said. Gendry frowned at him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I wasn’t asking you,” he growled, stroking Arya’s hair. Clegane raised his eyebrows, causing the scars and burns that fell across his face to stretch unpleasantly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I can see why you two get along,” Clegane muttered. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Stop it,” Arya said, stepping away from Gendry and shaking her head. She met his eyes and took a heavy breath. “I’m fine,” she started. “Jaqen, um,” Arya shook her head again and Gendry’s heart slammed against his ribcage. “Gods, you were right.” It was a small relief that she sounded more angry than shaken, more frustrated than hurt - but a relief all the same._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What did he do?” His voice sounded odd, as though his ears weren’t working properly._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Jaqen had brought her in to tell her how pleased he was with her progress, how excited he was about her transition into her more serious role with the team. He had told her that he was looking forward to working with her one-on-one and to see her demonstrate how dedicated she was to him and the firm. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She had tried to be polite (Clegane snorted at this, earning himself a glare from Gendry). Jaqen had touched her knee and she had stood to leave. He had insisted that she stay. Gendry felt as though he might throw up. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Jaqen had told Arya that he thought she was something very special, that he was hoping she wouldn’t make him look silly after he had insisted that they offer her a promotion. He had told her how unfortunate it would be for both of them, should she make a fuss. He had kissed her. She had hit him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I don’t know if it was a slap or a punch, I just… I walked right out and -,”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Right into me,” Clegane cut in. “Took me all of about three seconds to guess what had happened in that office.” He made a face. “Scumbag.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Sandor took me home,” Arya said, her voice a little less angry now. “He didn’t think I should ride the train alone while, like, on the verge of tears.” Gendry nodded. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Thank you,” he nodded to Clegane. He looked back at Arya. “Are you okay?” She nodded. He believed her, but it didn’t make the ringing in his ears go away. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry had never felt fury like this before, not even when his dead father had told him about all of the other kids he’d abandoned. His mouth felt dry and his head hurt. He wasn’t sure when he had clenched his fists, but his knuckles were white and his nails dug into his palms. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry moved and Clegane moved almost immediately, stepping in front of him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Where’re you headed?” The larger man growled. Gendry glared at him and attempted to carry on towards the door, but Clegane held him steady._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Move,” Gendry said. Clegane snorted. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Beating him up won’t do anything but cause more trouble for both of you,” he said. “Even if you have a good lawyer.” Gendry stared at him for a few seconds. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I already got him,” Arya said with conviction. Gendry turned to look at her._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You sure?”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He yelped,” she said. “And my hand still hurts.” That was enough for Gendry. He shrugged out of Clegane’s grip and went to the freezer door to get a pack of frozen peas for Arya’s hand. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Clegane left shortly after, reminding Arya to call him the next morning to figure out what she wanted to do. Gendry thanked him again and Clegane shook his head, insisting that he owed Arya a bit of decency. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He does,” she agreed upon hearing this. She chewed her lip. “But I guess I’m glad it was him I ran right into. He didn’t need an explanation.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry was angry, as angry as he had ever been - but so was Arya. She was hurt and shocked and furious. Her eyes were alight with it as she shrugged out of her work clothes and into her pyjamas and as Gendry forced a plate of leftovers under her nose. He let her lie on the couch with her feet in his lap as he refused to let her take any blame. Her tidal wave of anger was occasionally interrupted by a momentary crisis, such as what she was going to tell her coworkers, or how she had ended up on speaking terms with Sandor Clegane. He spoke when he thought it might be helpful, but mostly he just listened and let her feel as angry as she needed to._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She recounted the details of the kiss a handful times, as if she couldn’t quite believe it had happened. Each time made Gendry think more and more about tracking Jaqen down and hurting him. He could make bail, thanks to the inheritance, and Arya would probably be able to - _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Gendry,” Arya said when she caught him scowling to himself as they climbed into bed. “Stop thinking about doing anything.” She almost smiled as she reached to cradle his jaw in her little hand. “I promise that I got a good shot in.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Wish you’d been armed,” he said, not sure if he was joking or not. He leaned into her palm. “I’m getting you a knife for our anniversary.” Arya snorted. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“_Anniversary_,” she laughed. “When’s that exactly?” Gendry shrugged. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“June,” he said. “Probably. July?” They went over this every summer - neither was quite sure what the actual date had been when Arya had dragged Gendry up a hill to finally let him kiss her senseless. He liked thinking about that day - the way Arya had stood on the hilltop overlooking the Northern landscape, her hair dancing around her face in the wind. She had looked like a princess from a story, or a goddess - something otherworldly and untouchable and impossible, but she was real, grinning at him in the sun. He looked at her now, also seemingly lost in thought. Her face was breathtaking. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Kiss me,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes again. He obliged, gently pressing his lips to hers. He pulled away only millimetres, so that their noses still touched. Her eyes were soft and bright like a cloudy morning’s sky. “I don’t like anyone else doing that,” she said seriously. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Can’t say I do either,” he agreed. She kissed him again. “Where did he touch you?” He asked. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Arya guided his hand to her thigh, just above her knee. He shifted down to kiss her there. She rolled her eyes and then closed them, smiling as she moved his hand up to her lower back. He flipped her over gently and moved her shirt up to kiss her lightly, unable to contain a chuckle as she shuddered slightly. He rolled her over as he pulled her pyjama shirt higher still so that he could kiss the ribs she had broken years ago. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Stupid,” she muttered, reaching for his hand and bringing it up to her face. She let him cradle her face in his hand. He moved his palm to kiss her there, too. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Thanks for hitting him,” Gendry said quietly. Arya smiled and tucked herself against him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You should sleep, Gendry. You’ve got to be at work in 6 hours,” she said. Gendry’s entire body stiffened immediately. _Work_._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I quit,” he said, the words feeling almost funny on his tongue. He had completely forgotten the fact that he had quit his job that very day. “I quit this morning.” Arya pulled herself away from him to ensure that he was serious._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What?” she demanded, propping herself up. “Gendry, when were you going to tell me this? You _quit_? What happened?” He scratched the back of his head. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I basically called them all greedy pricks and told them to fuck off,” he said. “Not that aggressively, of course.” Arya raised an eyebrow skeptically. He sighed. “I said all they all wanked off to concrete and I pretty much implied that I was rich enough to walk out without a second thought.” Gendry cringed internally at his own words. He really shouldn’t be allowed out without Arya to keep him in line. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Gods,” Arya said, but it was muffled by the hands that covered her face as she shook with laughter. She pulled them away and shook her head at him. “I love you so much.” She started laughing again and soon he was laughing with her. They both had tears in their eyes and Arya let out a happy, breathless sigh. “We’re a disaster.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Arya called Sandor in the morning and Gendry made her waffles. She called HR next, going to sit on the balcony to explain what had happened. The lady on the other end had sounded sad, apparently, and had told Arya that she was better off just handing in her notice. Apparently this had happened before, and it was never worth the horrors of going toe-to-toe with Jaqen H’ghar._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“She said she was sorry,” Arya said, “And that they would all miss me.” Her eyes started watering and she shook her head. “I hope he wins this case for Meris and her children. And then I hope he gets hit by a truck.” Gendry felt a rush of sadness for Arya, knowing that not seeing this case through would eat away at her. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“How about a motorbike?” Gendry offered. Arya smiled briefly before her face grew serious and she shook her head._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m not going to let him do this again,” she said. “Those other girls might not have been able to afford to spend their time and money going up against the city’s best attorney, but I can afford that.” He grinned at the conviction in her voice. He was so in love with her. “I’ll have to speak with them first, see which ones might be willing to come forward. And the press will be all over this if my name’s at the forefront, but that _could_ work in our favour, if the firm wants to avoid the bad PR…” Arya thought for a moment and then let out a heavy sigh. “I think I need a break first.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You do,” Gendry agreed. It would be good for her, getting out of the city and allowing herself to take a breath or two. “What do you say we head up to Winterfell for a bit?”_ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is the reason i'm writing this silly sequel! winterfell, baby!


	9. Arya, til death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title gives you two options regarding what this chapter could be about and I’ll spoil it right now and say that it’s the good one. That “minor character death” tag is not about Arya Stark. How incredibly fucked up would it be if I did that lol? She’s safe, I promise. 
> 
> Also, the chapter count for this story is a lie. I just don't know how much of a lie yet so I'll leave it at 11 right now. But it'll probably be more like 12 chapters. Sorry I don't know how to plan anything :) 
> 
> Anyway, this whole chapter is just Gendry making heart eyes at Arya. Sorry if that's not what you came here for.

They left King’s Landing without a proper plan. They packed enough for a week or two away, climbed into Edmure’s old truck, and hit the road. 

-

They took the longer route, spending a day with Bella and Jack and all of Jack’s toy animals. Jack spent most of the afternoon showing Gendry his blocks, leaving Arya and Bella to chat in the kitchen. As they said their farewells, Gendry found that Arya had a funny look on her face, the way she did the last time they pulled out of Bella’s complex. 

“What?” he asked flatly. She smiled as she shoulder checked and turned onto the main road.

“Nothing.” 

“Uh huh,” he said. Arya said nothing for a few minutes, navigating her way towards the motorway. It was only as they passed the ‘See you next time!’ sign outside of Stoney Sept that she spoke.

“You’re going to be a good dad.” 

Gendry’s face felt warm and he let out an inadvertent laugh. “Maybe,” he said, attempting to keep any nervousness out of his voice. Aside from his short time with the Seaworths, Gendry’s childhood had been quite lacking in the father figure department. 

“No, you will,” Arya said firmly. “You don’t need to have a good father to be one.” 

“Hope not,” he said with a false sort of humour. Arya reached over and took his hand, lifting it up so that she could kiss the back of it without taking her eyes off the road. 

“You only look like him, Gendry,” she reminded him. 

-

Acorn Hall looked much the same as it had that winter, only now the gardens were blossoming with all sorts of flowers and shrubs, and the trees surrounding the house were lush and green. Ravella greeted them warmly, telling them that a family from Oldtown were boarding with her for the week, so the dinner conversations would be livelier than in January. She led them to the same room they had stayed in the night they’d got engaged and Ravella told Gendry she was glad he wasn’t sporting a shiner this time. 

-

The forests and hills surrounding Acorn Hall were rich in biodiversity and mythical history, or so Gendry learned as he followed Arya through the woods. Her family used to visit Riverrun when she was younger, so she had spent many a day exploring the woods just north of here. Arya seemed to know everything, from which berries were poisonous to why certain animals represented old families of the Riverlands. 

“...And the Wodes were hedgehogs because they’re supposed to be prickly and reclusive, but I knew one in school and she was quite nice,” Arya explained. “Sansa always wished the Whents were hedgehogs instead of bats - my grandmother was a Whent.” 

“You’d be too cute if you were part hedgehog,” Gendry said, earning a look of exasperation from Arya. 

They climbed to the top of High Heart, a great hill with weirwood stumps in a ring at the top. They could see for miles from here, the day so clear that even the city of Harrenhal was visible to the east. The landscape was different - lusher and wetter and leafier - but the view reminded Gendry of the hills near Winterfell, where he had first kissed Arya. 

“Apparently this place is magical,” Arya said as Gendry wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his head on top of hers. “Like a sort of safe haven for travellers. No harm could come to those who stayed here.” She leaned back into his body and he brought his face down to kiss her shoulder. It did feel sort of magical, in an old, quiet sort of way. 

-

They stayed at Acorn Hall for three days, exploring the woods together and sharing dinner with Ravella and the family of four who were thrilled to tell Arya and Gendry about the literary tour of Westeros they were hoping to complete by the end of the summer. Marcher the cat twisted his way around Arya’s ankles at any given opportunity - she seemed to quite enjoy it. 

On their last afternoon, Gendry held Arya’s hand as they walked through the forest. They were admiring how calm the world felt here, away from the bustle of King’s Landing, when the rain came. It was a sudden summer shower, lit up golden by the late afternoon sun. Arya grinned as she looked up and smiled, her eyes shut lightly as she let it fall against her cheeks. 

“D’you remember when I got caught in the rain?” she asked, blinking her eyes open and turning to face him. “That summer, with my horse?” 

“Of course,” Gendry smiled. It had probably been the most impressive show of restraint he had ever displayed, save for when he recently had kept himself from hunting down Jaqen H’ghar. Arya had been soaked, shivering in the Winterfell stables. She had taken her wet shirt off and he had replaced it with one of his own, but every cell in his body had wanted to warm her up himself, to run his hands over her goose marked skin until she was shuddering for much different reasons. He had been certain that it was too good to be true, that he was a fool for wanting her so desperately. Not shifting forward to close the distance between their lips felt insane now, utterly laughable. How had he managed to stand so close to her and allow something as silly as ‘rules’ stop him from kissing her? “Of course I do.” 

Arya brought her hands to his and guided him to the top button on her shirt. He worked slowly until the buttons were all undone, peeling her now soaked shirt off. He laughed as she carelessly shrugged it to the forest floor but sobered up immediately when he met her eyes. Her hair was stuck to her face and water droplets were catching on her eyelashes. The rain ran in rivulets down her body, tracing her shoulders, her collarbone, her breasts. Her eyes were warm and asked him, wordlessly, to not hesitate to kiss her this time. 

He obliged, bringing his lips down to hers eagerly, pushing wet strands of hair from her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Gendry’s own hair was sticking to his forehead and dripping into his eyes, forcing him to pull himself away for a moment to push it back. Arya grinned blissfully up at him, peeling his shirt up his torso. He helped her tug it off before cupping her face once more. She smiled.

“Isn’t this where you stop and insist that someone will spot us?” she asked. Gendry looked left and right and then upwards, blinking as the rain fell harder. 

“Who else would be out in this?” He kissed her again, dropping a hand to her waist as he trailed his lips down her neck to her collarbone. Arya’s skin was cold and pale, her bra all but soaked through. Her bottom lip shook slightly before he captured it again, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm as they kissed like a pair of starcrossed teenagers, snuck away into the woods to be together. 

-

When the rain grew too heavy to stick out, Arya grabbed their shirts and tugged Gendry back towards Acorn Hall. “The stables will be empty,” she insisted. 

The building was small and smelled more of dust than horses - the Smallwoods hadn’t kept horses for years, according to Ravella. 

“This’ll do until it clears,” Arya said approvingly, glancing out the window before her eyes landed on Gendry. Stepping forward to meet him, she kissed him once before shoving him backwards so that he stumbled over some sacks of grain. He propped himself up and watched her shrug her wet jeans off before reaching back to unclasp her bra. Gods, she was breathtaking. 

-

They arrived at the house as the rain died down. They were dressed again, their wet clothes sticking uncomfortably to their skin. Ravella fussed over them as they traipsed into the front hall apologetically. 

“Miserable,” she exclaimed, “One of those sudden showers we get every so often.” She wrapped a fluffy towel around Arya and tossed another to Gendry. 

“We waited it out in the stable,” Arya said, clutching the towel tightly. Ravella looked them up and down. 

“Not enough of it, I daresay,” she laughed. Arya blushed sheepishly as she pulled a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. The innkeeper’s eyes landed on her ring and her lips parted in surprise. “Oh,” she breathed, reaching out to take Arya’s hand and run her thumb over the little stone in the centre. “Oh. Where did you find that?” Ravella looked at Arya and then at Gendry, her eyes filled with fondness. 

“A flea market,” he frowned, wishing he remembered the name of the seller. “It was from some travelling merchant, I’m not sure of her name or -,” 

“Nor am I,” Ravella said, shaking her head as she held Arya’s hand. She looked between them breathlessly. “This was my ring, many years ago, it you’d believe it.” She looked at Arya, whose eyes had widened in sync with Gendry’s. “I had always wanted it to end up on the hand of someone who was properly in love.” 

“It’s beautiful,” Arya said, bringing her other hand to the ring. Gendry knew that she loved the ring he’d given her, but he also knew that she would return it to Mrs. Smallwood in a heartbeat if the woman wanted it. It’s why he loved her. Ravella took Arya’s hand and folded it, not allowing her to shift the ring from her finger.

“Yes, dear. And so are you,” she said. “Now go and get in the shower before you both catch a chill.” 

-

“Strange,” Arya said, examining the ring as they lay, freshly showered, in cozy and dry clothes. Gendry nodded. It’s as though they were meant to find this place, as if the ring hadn’t wanted him to propose until it was back where it used to belong. “Do you believe in magic?” she asked. 

He looked at her, bright eyed and curious, a curl of her wet hair falling over her forehead. The first thing he had ever known about her was that she was beautiful, before he knew her name and her title and how warm and kind her heart was, before he knew how hard she would fight for things she loved and how perfect her laughter sounded. It still caught him off guard on occasion, how impossible she seemed. 

“Yeah,” he replied truthfully. “I do.”

-

They departed Acorn Hall the following morning, as the sun halfheartedly decided to shine through the gaps in the overcast sky. Ravella hugged them both, holding Arya’s hand for a moment as she bid them farewell. “The world is funny,” she smiled as she stepped away and picked up the old cat before he could trap Arya in another round of belly rubs. “I hope you two come back again.” They promised that they would. 

-

Arya and Gendry took a few days to make their way to Winterfell. They slept over at a rustic inn that Hot Pie’s culinary school classmate owned with her sister. He insisted that the Crossroads served “the best breakfast in the Riverlands” - Arya passed along this compliment to the chef, who blushed furiously and insisted that Hot Pie’s crumpets were far better. 

They stayed in a fancy hotel in The Twins and in a funny little bed and breakfast at Moat Cailin. On their last day of travel, they drove from morning until evening, finally pulling up to Winterfell’s gates as the sun fell behind the trees.

-

He liked being back here with just Arya. Some of the staff was there, too - Lottie in the kitchens and Clara in the gardens. Old Harwin had retired last year, but he lived in Wintertown and still liked to wander the manor grounds every now and then. But without Catelyn - who only spent a few months of the year here anyway - and the other members of the Stark family, it felt quieter, like a sprawling sanctuary for himself and Arya to enjoy. 

They had warned the house that they were coming, and the bed in his old cottage had been made up for them. “Apparently the new stable master lives in town,” Arya said. “He’s got kids, so this is a bit small and out of the way. But I thought it’d be nice for us.” He had only lived there for a few months, but it almost felt like home, laying in the little cabin bed with Arya’s form at his side. 

-

Sneaking around with Arya that first summer had been fun, but it was nice to not have to avert his eyes when she took her bikini top off to sunbathe. It was nice to wake up next to her and not feel the immediate need to rush her back up to the manor house. It was nice to tease her as they helped Lottie in the kitchen without worrying that the cook might pick up on their affection for each other. 

“Knew you’d two get hitched one day,” Lottie proclaimed proudly as she beamed at Arya’s focaccia dough and frowned at Gendry’s. “Looks a little dry, son. But from the moment Harwin told me the stable boy was fond of Miss Stark, I had a feeling it would turn into something.” Arya looked up at Gendry, amused.

“You talked to Harwin about me?” she asked. Gendry pretended to examine his dough as he blushed. 

“Didn’t mean to,” he admitted. “He caught me watching you one day and asked me if I wanted him to put in a good word.” Arya laughed. “I told him I had no business talking to a girl like you and he said there weren’t many girls like you.” Arya blushed as she rolled her eyes at him. Lottie snorted. 

“Oh, Harwin. Always been a bit of a romantic, I think,” she sighed before shooing Gendry away from the dough he seemed to be ruining. 

-

The new stablemaster was a Dothraki man named Aggo, who occasionally brought his daughters to the grounds to help him with the horses. The girls liked to braid Arya’s hair and insisted that she and Gendry join them for elaborate games of hide-and-seek throughout the manor and its gardens. 

Clara the gardener enlisted them to help her weed out the flowerbeds and Gendry couldn’t help but fall back into his old habits from the summer he worked the grounds. He woke early, before the sun was finished rising. Arya picked flowers to put in the various vases throughout the house while he watered the plants that would be soaked in sunlight later in the day. He fixed the hinge on a kitchen cupboard for Lottie and helped Arya trim the hedges that grew slightly unruly without Harwin’s constant attention. 

Even with so much to do and so many people around, Arya and Gendry found ample time to spend alone. They went for long hikes up the northern hills, packing a picnic lunch to enjoy as they took in the views. Gendry still enjoyed watching Arya sunbathe by the pool and by the river, which was a far more pleasant experience now that he had no obligation to look away when she caught his eye. 

-

He found her by the river, clad in only her undergarments. Her eyes were shut and she lay still, drying in the afternoon sun. She seemed to feel his eyes on her and smiled. “All done?” Arya asked. 

Gendry had been called upon to help Aggo repair a small issue with the stable’s gutters - he was tall enough to reach them, saving Aggo from extracting the ladder from the workshed. 

“All done,” Gendry confirmed, settling down to sit in the grass beside Arya. Her eyes remained shut as he looked at her - her soaking wet bra and underwear, her hair damp and splayed out in the grass, her skin lit up golden by the sunlight. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“You,” he said. She hummed softly. 

“I was thinking about you, too,” she said. “Anything in particular?” He lazily ran a finger up and down her forearm. 

“This is what you looked like when we met,” he said. The bra itself might be different, as might her underwear, but the premise was the same. 

“Wet and mostly naked?” Arya teased. He leaned down and kissed her lips, catching her slightly by surprise. 

“Mhm,” he agreed, moving to kiss the underside of her jaw. “I never stood a chance” 

-

“Are you cold?” Arya asked. They were still lying on the secluded, grassy river bank and he had pulled on his pants, but his upper half was bare - Arya had stolen his shirt and wore nothing else. Their legs tangled together, the slight stubble from her calves tickling him pleasantly. He pulled her against him and shook his head as he kissed her shoulder lightly. They fell asleep under the stars. 

-

“Gendry,” Arya said. They had both been awake for a little while, warm in each other’s arms as the pale dawn began to fade into a blue summer sky. It was their last morning at Winterfell. 

“Hm?” he answered. 

“Do you want to get married?” 

He knew right away what she meant by it. He nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.” 

-

She sent him off to town to fetch Harwin and his old guitar. On the way back to the house with Harwin in the passenger seat, they passed by Aggo and his daughters, who were skipping eagerly towards Winterfell’s gates. 

-

He brushed by Arya on her way down to the kitchen to speak with Lottie. “I’ve found a dress,” she announced. “It’s not a proper wedding dress, but it should do.” 

-

Aggo’s daughters were thrilled when Arya asked them if they would help her with her hair. Gendry helped Harwin move a few chairs down to the riverside, angled around the old oak tree that would serve as an altar. Clara saw him eyeing her flowerbeds and insisted that he go and shower, that she would handle the bouquet. 

-

Gendry flipped through the clothes he had in his bag and was left with very few options. The linen button down would do, and it would be nice and light. He smiled as he set out his darker pair of jeans, wondering what Bella or Sansa would say if they knew he was about to get married in blue jeans. He supposed his work boots were slightly more appropriate than his running shoes, though he was sure Arya would laugh when she saw them. 

He grabbed one of Arya’s hair pins from the nightstand by their little bed in the cottage - he had one more thing to do. 

-

Gendry could hear Arya laughing with Aggo’s daughter from her room as he snuck by her door and towards Catelyn’s study. He knelt down and stretched the hairpin with his teeth before jamming it into the lock. He fiddled for a few moments before it clicked and the door swung open. 

The locked desk drawer was even easier to open, but he felt rather uncomfortable as he broke in. Ned and Catelyn’s own wedding photo was looking down at him - they were flanked by Catelyn’s sister and Gendry’s own father. He apologized to them quietly as the lock clicked and he pulled the drawer open, grabbing the rings he had come to steal. 

Ned and Catelyn looked rather pleased in the photo at least. His own father was positively beaming.

-

He stood with Harwin and Lottie by the tree. Harwin strummed his instrument casually - a light, summery sort of song. Aggo and his daughters sat with Clara in the seats. It struck Gendry, suddenly, that Arya had no one to walk her down the aisle. “Are you nervous?” Harwin asked. 

“Gods, yes,” Lottie answered. “The lady will have my head for this.” Gendry glanced at her sharply. 

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” The cook shook her head and Gendry exhaled. “Thank you,” he said. “She’d have already chartered a helicopter up to -,” but Lottie’s change in expression made him follow her gaze and all thoughts of Catelyn Stark were forgotten. 

Arya’s hair fell around her shoulders, with a bit at the front pulled back in a delicate braid. There were little daisies woven in. She looked like a fairy. Her cheeks flushed pink when she met Gendry’s eye and she bit her lip almost nervously. 

Her dress wasn’t a proper wedding dress, it was true. It flowed lightly as she walked, a few petals from Clara’s bouquet falling loose as she made her way towards him. The dress had capped sleeves and a wide neck, with a skirt that fell a little bit above her knees. It was more cream-coloured than white, and on anyone else it might have been unremarkable. But on her - _Gods_. She was radiant, as impossible as she had seemed when he had first laid eyes on her. Her skirt rippled in the breeze. There seemed to be some sort of pattern along the hem of the dress - delicately embroidered leaves that also traced the neckline, he realized as she reached him.

“Hi,” she said. He blinked at her and shook his head. 

“You look...,” he said, finding that he was incapable of putting it into words. She blushed and looked down. 

“Nice shoes,” she teased when she noticed his work boots. 

“You can talk,” he said, glancing down at her bare feet in the grass. Lottie coughed. 

“Now, I’ve told you, I’m not properly registered -,” Lottie started, but Arya waved her away. 

“You said you’d married two people on a boat once, right?” The cook nodded and Arya smiled. 

“I was barely older than you, mind, and only cause I was the one sober person on the ship,” Lottie said, but she straightened up. “Alright, then. Who comes?” Arya reached out for Gendry’s hand. He wasn’t sure if they were supposed to hold hands just yet - he mentally chastised himself for not paying enough attention at Robb and Jeyne’s ceremony. 

“Arya of House Stark,” Arya said clearly. She sounded so _sure_. She tossed her bouquet to Clara and turned to face Gendry properly. 

“Who comes to claim her?” Lottie asked, looking to Gendry now. 

“Gendry of - um,” he paused. “Just Gendry Waters.” Lottie blinked at him. “Oh!” This was when the rings were supposed to come out. He pulled them out of his breast pocket and handed one to Arya. “Your mother said we could use these,” he explained. Arya’s eyes were wide with confusion.

“You told my mother about -,”

“_No_,” he hissed. “She said it months ago. But I figured since they were here…” 

“You _stole_ them?” Arya demanded, her face brightening up at once. 

“Borrowed,” Gendry said. Arya grinned and rolled the bigger wedding band between her fingers. They were simple, matching silver rings - one larger and thicker, one slightly daintier. Something was written on the inside, but it was in the language of the first men, some ancient runic words that he couldn’t decipher. 

Arya took his hand gently and slid the band on. It fit slightly tight, but it would do for now. Arya ran her thumb over the ring. He slipped hers onto her hand - it fit perfectly. Arya gripped both of his hands in hers and he followed her lead as they sank to their knees. “Bow your head,” she whispered. He did as she instructed and their foreheads met. “We’re supposed to be praying,” she breathed. Gendry smiled. 

He had never been religious, but holding his wife’s hands and hearing her suppress a giggle as their noses brushed was as holy an experience as any he had known. 

“You may rise,” Lottie said. She hesitated. “I think that’s all,” she continued. “Unless you’ve prepared vows?” Gendry froze and Arya shook her head. “Then I suppose we’ll call it binding! I now pronounce you man and wife.” The small group clapped Harwin let out an approving whistle as Gendry lifted Arya off of her feet to kiss her, spinning where they stood. A couple of daisies fell from her hair onto his shoulders. Gendry felt a familiar tug of affection as he lowered her back to her feet, her arms still locked firmly around his neck. She was the only thing he had ever felt so sure about. 

“I love you,” she said, kissing him again before he could say the same to her. 

-

“You need to _dance_,” Aggo’s elder daughter insisted. “It’s a wedding!”

Gendry slipped his boots and socks off to dance with Arya on the grass, not wanting to injure her when he inevitably stepped on her toe. Harwin played a simple song and Gendry held Arya close. They swayed peacefully and Gendry, for the first time in ages, thought about the last conversation he had had with Robert. He stepped back from Arya and twirled her around under his arm, earning himself a surprised laugh. 

“Where did that come from?” she asked, placing her hand back on his shoulder and tilting her head up at him. He shrugged. 

“Robert made me promise I’d ‘give you a twirl’ at our wedding,” he said, feeling sort of silly. “He’s probably thrilled, wherever he is.” 

“He’d have loved this, yeah. Even more so if there was more wine,” Arya laughed. “I think this dress was my aunt’s. Found it in amongst her old things.” They swayed in silence for a moment. 

“I’m sorry you had to walk yourself down the aisle,” Gendry said. Arya shook her head. 

“Jon knew we’d never have a proper wedding,” she smiled, looking up at him and brushing his hair out of his face. “My dad would have liked you, I think,” she said. “I mean, after the initial… drama.” 

“Yeah?” Gendry asked skeptically. 

“Oh yeah,” Arya insisted. “Your father was his best friend. If Dad could put up with Robert, he definitely would have warmed to you eventually.” 

“Comforting,” Gendry smiled. 

“Enough about our fathers,” Arya said. The sun was beginning to set. “I want to enjoy some of Lottie’s cake before we have to leave.”

-

The cake - made with berries from the garden and fresh cream - was perfect. “Lottie outdid herself,” Arya sighed happily, licking a bit of cream from her finger. She looked around - Aggo’s daughters were picking petals off of one of the flowers from her bouquet and Harwin was strumming his guitar tunelessly. “Where are we going again?” 

“Some little inn north of here,” Gendry said vaguely. “There are all sorts of trails for hiking, it’s supposed to be lovely.” Arya nodded, tucking herself into his body. 

“We should probably hit the road, then.” 

-

The sun was dipping below the hilltops when Arya suggested they pull over. “The view is nice,” she explained. Gendry put the car into park and couldn’t help but agree with her. The last of the sun’s golden light made Arya look like something out of a dream. She was still wearing her wedding dress. 

She tore her eyes away from the sunset and looked at him, a bold expression on her face. “We’re married.” 

“We are,” he agreed. She moved swiftly, unbuckling herself and climbing over the centre console to sit on his lap. She ran her fingers down his cheeks and back up, tangling them in his hair as she leaned forward to plant a trail of kisses across his jaw. He smiled under her touch and couldn’t manage to suppress a little groan as she rocked against him. “Arya,” he warned, and she cocked an eyebrow at his tone. 

“What?” 

“There’s a perfectly good bed waiting for us at that inn,” he said, though he found himself losing conviction as she ran her hands down his chest and began to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. 

“And there’s a perfectly good backseat right here,” Arya countered, finally bringing her lips to his as she clutched his face. He ran his hands up her thighs, enjoying the little shudder she made under his touch. 

“This is hardly the way a lady like you should be spending her wedding night,” he said into her ear before drawing his mouth down her neck to her exposed collarbone. “Rather improper.” He hitched the skirt of her dress further up her thighs. She scoffed and leaned her head back to allow him more of her neck to assault with his lips. 

“I don’t think you and I have ever stood a chance at being proper,” she breathed, reaching down to work on his belt. 

-

“So much for the back seat,” Gendry said, smiling as Arya collapsed against him. She recovered quickly, pulling back and placing her hands on his shoulders. 

“Who said I was done with you?” she smiled.

-

They fell asleep in the back seat, the night warm enough that they did not need to fetch a sweater from their bags. 

Arya woke first and shook Gendry. He blinked at her and rubbed the back of his neck. Two nights in a row of not sleeping in a bed was enough for him. “Hi,” he said, brushing some hair from Arya’s face. “We’re married.” 

“We are,” she nodded. “And we never made it to that inn.” Gendry blinked. 

“Shit,” he said, sitting up. “Where are we?”

“There was a sign that said we were halfway to Last Hearth,” Arya said. “Like, five or so minutes before we stopped.” Gendry frowned, trying to calculate the distance in his head. 

“Right,” he said, sitting up and reaching for his shirt. “We’d better hit the road.” Arya laughed at this. 

“Why are you in such a rush?” she asked. “The inn’s not going anywhere and you booked us in for, what? Four nights? We have all day to get there.” She sat up and stretched, her hair sticking out at all angles. 

“Yeah, well, I lied,” Gendry said flatly, climbing into the front seat and rubbing his eyes. “I only booked one night at that inn.” Arya was pulling on a t-shirt that she had tugged out of her bag. She frowned at him. 

“You lied?” she said. “What’s going on?” Arya crossed her arms and Gendry sighed. He had been hoping to surprise her in a somewhat more elegant way. 

“We’re expected at the Wall this afternoon,” he explained, pulling on his seatbelt. “Jon’s got three whole days off and it was going to be a surprise but -,” Her lips met his clumsily and briefly. 

“Are you serious?” Arya breathed. He nodded and she slapped his arm as she pulled herself into the passenger seat. “You two planned this?” He nodded again. 

“I mean, I didn’t exactly intend for it to be our honeymoon,” Gendry admitted. “But yeah, we worked it out a couple months back.” She shook her head, grinning as he pulled back onto the highway. 

-

“I’m never going to find a wedding gift to measure up to this,” Arya lamented as they sped past pine trees and rocky creeks. 

“Last night was enough,” Gendry said, reaching over to squeeze her thigh. She mirrored the movement, but instead of squeezing him just above the knee, she drew her hand dangerously up the inseam of his trousers. “Arya,” he said, doing his best to sound serious. “I’m driving. On a highway.” 

“No one else is, though,” she said. She wasn’t wrong - they hadn’t seen another car in hours. 

“I’m already going far faster than I should be,” he said, trying to ignore her hand on his belt buckle. 

“I’ll go slow then.” She spoke softly, her voice like honey. He knew he couldn’t look at her right now. “Gendry.” 

“Arya.” 

“I just want to show my husband how much I adore him.” 

For someone who had never really been too fussed about the whole _marriage_ thing, the word ‘husband’ had quite the effect on Gendry. Arya, as she tended to, got her way with him. 

-

“I don’t think my mother would approve of anything we’ve done in the past twenty-four hours,” Arya admitted. They had stopped for lunch and she now sat in the driver’s seat. Gendry nodded. 

“As if you care,” he said lazily, earning a cheeky smile. Her rings glinted in the sun as she rounded a bend in the road. It had been four years now, almost exactly, since she had strode into his life and knocked the wind right out of him. It made him very happy to know that she would be doing so for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanted to comment, i would love it if instead you spent 3 minutes signing [ some of these petitions](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#petitions) (or, if you have the means, there are donation links as well)
> 
> i love you all and between the general capitalist hellscape we live in and the added fun of jk rowling attempting to insert her bigotry all over the place i want to say very loudly (in this very niche part of the internet) that black lives matter and that black lives are beautiful and that trans women are women and that trans men are men and that you are who you are and i and so many others adore you for it.


End file.
